Trapped
by Envy-555
Summary: Everyone knows that wild things happen on the streets of Chicago. When Ivy, a 17 year-old girl with a natural ability to steal and lie, gets commissioned to steal a valuable piece of jewelry, she encounters an attractive and menacing young man named Ari.
1. Been Caught Stealing

Been Caught Stealing

December 7

I lowered my gaze. The guard was watching me and I knew it. Maintaining a blasé attitude was key in this situation or he might actually confront me… Then I'd have to kick his butt, people would crowd, and the whole thing would go downhill from there.

_Why, dear Lord, _why_ did I get myself into this?_

I hated commissions. They never paid as well as they should have, they were never worth the recovery time, and the customers were usually hideous. Nevertheless, money is money. When making money comes down to prostitution or thievery… I know which I would pick.

_Damn, damnit, no! Go back to your chair, you stupid mall cop! Please, don't make this _more _difficult. _I averted my eyes as the blue-boy started to waddle in my direction. He was the general part-time cop type; sort of heavy, with his belt riding low under his protruding stomach. His hair was only visible on the sides of his head due to his generic 'Security' cap, but I suspected he was partially bald. Or balding, but whatever. Despite this, I could see that he had a nice face—he looked like the type who used to smile a lot but had gone through something depressing as hell and had lost that basic human function. On any other day, I probably would have asked him about his life or something, but at the moment my cheeks were hot with guilt.

"Hey, you, kid!" he called at me, just as I turned my back. I paused. _Do I run? Blow the whole thing? Fight? Talk my way out? I don't wanna hurt this sucker. _Thoughts flying, body still, I had just decided to stay when the cop put a hand on my shoulder. I jumped intentionally and spun to look at him, blinking my green eyes rapidly.

"Oh!" I gasped. "You startled me!"

"I'm sorry!" he quickly replied, his gray, aged eyes locking onto mine. I looked at his hand which was still resting on my shoulder. He pulled it away, looking uncomfortable. "You just looked sort of distressed, and I thought I'd check to make sure you were okay. Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," I replied, flashing a brilliant and sad smile, "I'm just a little bit out of it today."

"Alright. It's just—you were wandering through the jewelry section and I wondered…"

"Well, you see," I started, quickly spotting a scar on the man's neck, a chip in the glass of his watch, which had stopped, and a simple gold cross swinging around his neck, and came up with lie, "I'm having some trouble. My, um, mother is going to die in a few days. The doctor told me that I should just… just do everything to keep her… happy. And… she's always liked jewels, so," I started to sniff, but didn't overdramatize it, "I figured… a necklace or… or something…"

The mall cop's jaw dropped and I could see his eyes getting a little watery. I knew it wasn't totally because of my stunning performance.

"Sir? Did… did your wife die?" I asked him gently. See, his hands were dirty, his watch had stopped at 10:43 p.m. and cracked, and the crucifix around his neck had a tiny engraving on the back. Furthermore, the scar on his neck looked like the slash of a seatbelt when pulled extremely tight. I had gotten one similar to that a few years ago but mine had completely healed.

"How did you know that?" he questioned, suddenly grabbing my shoulder again. I looked up at him, a bit curious now.

_ Distraction! Distraction! Way to go!_

"Was it in a car crash?" I prodded gently.

"Y-yes," he replied, frowning at me as his eyes filled with tears from painful memories. "H-how…?"

"Was that her cross?"

"I g-gave it to her on our wedding day." The tears had overflowed now and were sliding down his cheeks.

"I just wanted to buy something for my mother. I can't decide what it should be, though." I frowned, successfully changing the topic enough, and dropped my eyes to the ground. "She deserves to feel beautiful when she dies. Even though we all see how gorgeous she is, she doesn't. I'm sure your wife was beautiful." I nodded meaningfully at him and he just started bawling.

"H-have a good day. Give my regards to your mother." He dashed off, back towards the men's bathroom.

_Yeesh. Hate to make a grown man cry, especially on duty, but it did the trick. _

Sighing and wiping crocodile tears from my eyes, I slipped back into the center of the brightly lit jewelry section. I yawned, stretched, and as I did so I surveyed my surroundings. There was almost no one in the section except a young guy in a dark suit, but he was facing the other direction. The clerk had run off to help a customer, and had left my target on a "hidden" part of the counter. I already knew where the cameras were and I had timed them to know when they spun to face away from the counter. I had about a ten second window of not being filmed as I stole a _very_ valuable piece of jewelry. Taking a deep breath, I wandered over to the counter and looked down through the glass, just your average customer.

_Now! _I leaned over the counter, swiping my hand across the hidden part. _10…9…8…7…_ I grabbed the necklace, quickly checked to see that it was the one I wanted. _6…5…4…_ It was terrible, but there was nowhere else for it to go. I tossed the diamond and ruby necklace down the front of my shirt. _God, it's cold. _I saw the price tag as it passed me. _3…2…1…Camera._

I stared down into the glass case again as if I was considering another piece of jewelry. Then I stood up straight, and walked towards the back door, zipping up my stolen jacket. I started to walk faster just as the clerk spotted me, ditched his customer, and called, "Sweetheart, that isn't an exit!"

Puffing out my cheeks and putting a hand over my mouth, I turned to face him. "I know!" I spat, " I just." _Heave._ "Didn't think." _Heave. _"I could make it." _Heave._ "To a bathroom!"

"Oh, jeez! Not on the carpet!" the guy yelped, throwing open the door for me. I dashed out and he watched me drop to my knees in the dirt, my back to him, clutching my stomach. I continued the fake heaves and then spat a few times on the ground, then stood up and kicked some snow over where I "threw up."

"God, I hate cafeteria food. This _always _happens to me," I complained, wiping my mouth and looking at the guy. "I think I'm gonna go home now, sleep, and maybe eat some veggies. Thanks for getting the door for me!"

"Uh, yeah! Sure," said the clerk, yanking the door closed behind him, disgusted.

_I did it again. Successfully! Winning! _

My name is Ivy. I'm not going to tell you my last name but I'll tell you that I'm a total kleptomaniac and probably the best teenage con-woman in the state. Or at least, I'd like to think so. I've been robbing and tricking innocent people since I was seven and regretting doing so since I was fifteen. Now I'm seventeen, and barely survive off of the money I get from stealing. I've got no home and no real future and therefore, nothing to lose. If I get caught, at least they serve food in juvy. But I'm competitive and a total adrenaline junkie so, until I get caught, I might as well live the way _I _want to.

Suddenly, I started laughing. How did they all fall for that? The poor cop! The retarded clerk! I felt brilliant and I was going to get _paid _for all that basic lying! The necklace itself would cost $560 if my employer had actually paid, but instead, _I _would get about a fifth of that, if I were lucky. But $112 isn't that small! That would buy me food for a whole week!

Silently, I started to dance in the snow, kicking up chunks and rubbing my stomach—I was _always_ hungry. But just as quickly, I stopped, hearing the deep, bell-like laughter of a man. I looked up to see the guy from the jewelry section striding towards me.

"Having fun?" he asked. _Harmless businessman, don't spaz. He's only curious about your retard dance._

I smirked, acting like a complete cheese. "Totally. I love dancing in the snow. Don't you? It's so satisfying." He continued in my direction. I quickly surveyed him. He had on a fancy black suit, probably silk, and black boots. His hair was warm brown and of medium length but combed back fairly neatly. His skin was a bit tan and I noticed a scar across his left eye. As he tilted his head I spotted a silver cross earring on the top of his left ear.

He started laughing again and the sound was like a rough Beethoven symphony. "No, I meant the little sting you pulled back there. Fun, huh?"

My heart stopped. "Wha—what are you talking about?" I asked him, tilting my head innocently despite the panic in my heart.

"You know what I'm talking about. I saw you snag that expensive little piece of jewelry." He grinned at me, clapping softly in a sort of mocking way.

I laughed in his face. _Calm… calm…_ "Ha, as if! I would _never_ do _anything_ like that."

"Oh yeah?" he questioned, walking right up to me. With absolutely _no _warning he spun me around, pinning my arms behind me with one of his, and slid his other over my shoulder and down my shirt. I gasped, froze, and then screamed. "What do you call this?" he joked, pulling out the necklace and then releasing me. I spun away from him, terrified.

_No! I need that! I need the money! I have to get it back! And by the way, _creeper_!_

The man was dangling the $560 necklace in my face, taunting me, and staring at my chest the whole time. The top button of my shirt had popped from his roughness and it now revealed the top of my black bra. Uber creeper. I snarled and pulled the shirt closed before growling, "Give. It. Back."

He laughed. "What're you gonna do to me if I don't, Pet?" The man spun my necklace around his finger, staring at it and completely ignoring me. _'Bout damn time._ With no warning except a small snarl, I lunged forward and tackled the creep into the snow. As he started to fall, I pushed up and dug my knees into his sides, grabbing the collar of his shirt and using him as a buffer in our descent. He slammed into the ground and the necklace slipped out of his hand, landing in the snow a few feet above his head. I started to launch off and over him, towards the necklace, but then he shouted, "Whoa, there!" He snatched at my thighs and yanked me down, throwing me into the snow beside him. Without hesitation, he rolled onto me, his hair dripping a little and no longer combed perfectly. "Aren't _you_ the little linebacker?" he joked, sitting up on my hips. I growled, looking over my head at the necklace. Three feet away.

See, when I was younger and still thought I had a chance at growing up to be mostly normal, I had attended a karate school. From that school I had learned a sufficient amount of self-defense, but I mainly obtained the ability to think quickly. Anyway, we had worked a little on grappling and I was generally good at it. You should try it some time—it's actually kind of fun.

With no warning, I lifted one of my knees and locked my ankle around the man's. Then I popped my hips up with all the strength I had, catching him off guard. He flew forward, throwing his arms out to prevent himself from crushing me. I reached up and around one of his arms, yanked hard around his elbow, and rolled to the side. He fell off easily, surprised at my actions, and I punched him hard in the face.

_Ouch._ I rolled away in the other direction and then sprang up to my feet, putting my hands up in fists. My punching hand was throbbing.

"Yeesh, Love. Why would you do that?" the man asked, sitting up and rubbing his… completely undamaged nose. _What?_ _That punch should have _shattered_ his face!_ He looked up at me and smirked. _Maybe I miscalculated…_ I frowned, suddenly filled with doubt. The man stood up so quickly and lunged so swiftly that I didn't even notice him until I felt the solid pain in my abdomen. I looked down to see his arm recoiling from the punch, and I doubled over, groaning. "You actually think you can best me?" he asked, stretching. There was something intimidating and bestial about the way he moved.

_Damn, he's fast. Who is this guy? _I gulped, standing up straight and dropping my arms from my stomach. _I'm faster. _

Lighting fast, I darted towards him, jumped into the air, and placed a solid sidekick into his neck. Spinning off of him I landed on my feet, crouching. He stumbled backwards, _one step. _I continued my attack and leapt forward, throwing a palm heel into his collarbone (which should have shattered under that pressure), a hook heel kick into his lower back, an uppercut to his chin, a spinning back kick into his ribs, and finally a hammer fist to the groin. _What now, jerk? _ I jumped back, raising my fists again and stared at him. All he did was wince. One wince. And then he laughed.

"Tough girl, huh? I'll admit, that last one stung."

_Damnit! He should be broken. Well, there's only one more option now. _I had really planned against this. I hated revealing anything personal to people who might spill the beans to the public. And this was one of the most intimate details about me.

Not to mention, it was _cold. _

Sighing, I yanked off my shirt to reveal an ill-fitting black tank top, tied the shirt around my waist, and just when the man looked at me I snapped out my wings. He just stared at me, his eyes wide, and then smirked.

_This guy is unshakable! I have wings, damnit! Fear me! _ I glowered at him, willing him to burst into flames.

Instead, he stripped off the wet jacket of his suit, threw it over his arm, and then two _humongous_ wings erupted from his back. Each one was a few feet less than my _full_ wingspan, and mine are fifteen feet total—seven and a half feet each. His span was easily twenty feet, probably a little more. And his wings were dark brown—chocolate colored almost. Mine were creamy with speckles and splotches, very similar to those of a red-tailed hawk. His were just flat out terrifying.

"Who are you?" I growled at him, trying to maintain a look of defiance. However, I had been filled with fear and doubt as soon as I saw his wings. Based on his blasé expression, he knew it too.

"Ari. Nice tat, by the way. Really fits your name." He winked at me. I looked down at my right shoulder, which sported a light tattoo of a creeping piece of ivy. I had gotten it when I was young and hardly remembered the experience. Then I realized—he knew my name.

I glared at him. "How do you know _me_?"

"Baby, I know _everyone_." He grinned and folded his wings. "Especially my targets." _Targets?_

"Geez, you _are_ a stalker." I muttered. He laughed. "Well, sorry to break it to you, Ari, but I have to get moving. You know when you make a promise you're supposed to keep it? I gotta deliver." Swiftly, I snatched the necklace out of the snow.

"Oh, so you didn't steal that for yourself?" he asked, looking just a little confused.

"Pfft, no. I was commissioned to steal this."

He frowned a little, almost disapproving. "Why'd you do it?"

I shrugged, becoming steadily more creeped out. Why was he asking? Why did he care? "Need the money. This'll feed me for a week." I dangled the necklace in front of him, and then dropped it back down my shirt reluctantly.

He watched it go down and then gave me a once over, his smirk returning. "Money, huh? Ever consider prostitution?"

I shot him the bird and then ran straight at him. He braced himself, waiting to be tackled again, and even put up his hands to catch me, but at the last second I jumped into the air and started flapping. He watched me go and I saw him shake his head, throw his jacket on the ground, and take off after me.

_Damn! Why? Just give up!_

My back ached. I didn't fly very often—I usually preferred to pretend to be normal and take the bus—so when I did I always got crampy for a little while. Nevertheless, I was a decent flier. By the way, _damn._ If you haven't flown with your own wings (and I'm going to assume most of you haven't), you haven't flown. To feel the wind caress you like this, to breath _pure_ air above the majority of pollution, to look down at the world… it's like heaven.

_Whoosh! _

Okay, this guy was _seriously_ disrupting my heaven. I looked up to see Ari soaring directly above me, as if waiting for _me_ to give up. _Like that'll happen. I'm stubborn as hell._ I looked forward, ignoring him. If you ignore things, they're supposed to go away. However, I shrieked as he dropped down on me from above, feet first, almost knocking me out of the sky.

"What the hell— What are you _doing_?" I screamed up at him.

He smirked, flipping under me suddenly and striking me in the exact same spot as before. All of the air puffed out of my chest. That would definitely bruise. "What do you think, sweetheart?" he joked, and did something new to me entirely. He punched my wing.

I screamed. Pain like nothing else. No one had _ever_ touched my wings before, beside myself, of course. I didn't know that I wanted people to, mostly because that would mean revealing my freakiness. But also, it just seemed so _intimate_ to me. I hadn't ever really had anyone _that_ close to me.

Furthermore, having never met someone else who could fly, I had never been in an aerial fight. I had no idea what to do—you could say I was "flying blind," but the pun would be painful. Trying to think of something, I lost focus on Ari and screamed as he swooped down again, grabbed the tip of my other wing, and yanked it hard. Something crunched. I cried out in pain, my voice shooting up an octave. Reacting in fear, I leaned to the right, hard, and streaked across the sky towards the lake.

By the way, that would be Lake Michigan. I happened to live in Chicago.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Ari following me closely. I gulped, getting ready to try something risky—I had to ditch him. I took a deep breath, and then swerved left, soaring directly towards downtown Chicago. Just before crashing into the windows of a large corporate building, I jerked to the side and ducked behind the building, then circled another one. Then I shot down one of the main streets and veered right, between more buildings.

My wings would have been sobbing if they had had eyes. Tired and damaged somehow, they could barely flap anymore. _I have to land. Screw Ari._ Spotting a little fire escape balcony off of an alleyway apartment, I swooped down and landed, folding my wings quickly. I was gasping and even whimpering a little as I yanked my shirt back on. What did he do to the tip? It hurt like sin. I winced, rolling my shoulders, and got ready to climb down the twenty-foot ladder. Just as I put my foot on the first step something hit the back of my head, hard as hell, and I fell. Falling backwards towards the ground, unable to open my wings, I blacked out.


	2. Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

December 8

_Thunk. Thu-thunk. Wham._

"Ouch!" I yelped, my head slamming backwards into cold, hard metal. "The hell—" _Thwack. _Abruptly, I opened my eyes to see darkness. _Am I blind? Oh, God. _I shook my head, terrified. I needed my sight. Lame, but I relied on it completely. However, as I shook my head, I felt the brush of dirty fleece rubbing my face. My spine hurt like a hyena, and as I tried to shift my weight, something scraped my back.

Then it hit me. Someone had zipped me into a hoodie backwards, and flipped the hood over my face. Jeezum, who were these guys? That was so amateur, didn't they know the hip thing was to use duct tape? Just as I thought that, I winced, rustling my wings. They wouldn't open. Generally, I could open them through a shirt or coat (although I don't like ripping the few clothes I have), but this time, I could hardly move them. They were duct taped closed.

_God damnit! _I reached to pull down the hood and then shred the tape, but something yanked my wrists back. Trying to bend my knees, something pulled tight on my ankles. They tied me down.

_Thunk!_

I winced, my head hitting metal again. With a rush of realization, I squirmed. I was in the bed of a truck. Tied down, face covered, wings taped, _in the back of a truck. _I screamed through the thick fleece and fabric. Then, annoyed to the point of severe scratching of something, I started trying to _lick_ the hood off of my face. Managing to force it off of my eyes enough that I could see the clouds speeding above me, I sighed and continued, but suddenly the crazy Chicago winds dipped into the bed of the truck, and pulled the hood over my face again.

"Argh!" I screamed, writhing. _Thu-thunk._ My head slammed the metal again, and I collapsed for a second before yanking hard at my bonds. I'm fairly strong, and generally intelligent, but the knots outsmarted me. Ari (or at least I _assumed_ he was the one who had kidnapped me) had tied strangle knots all around me. Strangle knots are generally used for ensnaring animals, because the more force applied to the inside of the loop, the tighter the loop becomes. One of my best friends when I was younger had enjoyed hunting and had taught me how to tie and untie this particular knot. However, you usually have two hands to do so. The point is that when I yanked, the loops tightened on my wrists and ankles, pinching my skin. I winced, my jaw clenching.

_Is Ari a Boy Scout or what? This is insane. _My back and wings hurt like sin. The skin was chaffing on my wrists, and my feet were falling asleep from lack of circulation. The $560 necklace was no longer tucked down my shirt, which implied that _someone_ had removed it and wanted me to starve. Worst of all, the fleece jacket smelled weird.

Yes, I am a whiner. Deal.

All of my muscles tensed, I struggled, mostly with a plan of escape. Then I realized I could relax. I wasn't going anywhere fast. Flopping down on the metal bed, I closed my eyes, and pretended I was…well, _everywhere_ but there. Relaxing a little from the retarded denial, my mind cleared enough to think rationally.

_I wonder where I am…_ I listened, breathing softly.

_Thu-thunk. Thu-thunk. Thunk…thunk. _Traffic. A boom box. Murmurs of pedestrians. I figured it was a pretty tall truck, or someone would have noticed the girl tied into the back. Cold wind blew through the bed, and I could taste the moisture in the air.

_Lake Shore Drive. _The weathered road and potholes, the mass of perambulators along the sidewalks, and yet still the buzz of the city—we were driving alongside Lake Michigan. I road the bus this way everyday for a month a few years ago—I had a job working with a "Chicago Style" hotdog street vendor, but got fired for "stealing".

Anyway, I knew the road, and could practically _smell_ those hotdogs. If I knew which way we were going, maybe I'd be able to keep track of our location. Eyes closed, I was surprised by the sudden growth in voices and excitement. All of a sudden, I could hear a literal hum of people's voices. In the distance, I could hear the theatrical music of theme park rides. Then I realized that we were passing Navy Pier, Chicago's lakefront playground. It was on my left (the right side of the truck), which meant we were heading north. Feeling slightly more secure, I took a deep breath, vaguely relaxing to the tune of Navy Pier as we passed it.

However, the tune was suddenly replaced with the wailing of a police siren. My stomach clenched. I'd spent enough time in my life running from the police. But suddenly, I remembered that I was tied down in the back of a truck, being kidnapped. Maybe some Illinois state power would help me out right now.

_"Please, park your vehicle. Yes, you in the red truck." _The microphone message reached my ears, and I felt the truck start to lean to the side, slowing down. _Yes! Thank God! Saved!_

Luck o' the Irish. Boys in blue helping me out, two days in a row! Maybe I was off the wanted list at last!

I felt the rumble of the truck's engine kick off, and heard the door of the cop car open. Then I heard footsteps pass by me, and just before I could call out for help, another voice called from the cab of the truck.

"How can I help you, officer?" _Ari. _

The cop cleared his throat, and then spoke. "Well, I just wanted to see if you knew that you were speeding. This is a 50 mile-per-hour zone, and you were exceeding 70. Sorry, dude, but I'll have to write you a ticket."

_Ha! What now, jerk? _I thought. I'd get rescued and Ari would pay! This was working out _very_ well.

"Oh, really?" Ari cooed, "I'm so sorry. My speedometer must be reading wrong, as it only showed that I was going 50. Thank you for telling me, sir. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone." He coughed, and I heard paper rustle. "How much will that ticket be for?"

"Oh, umm, that'll be $190."

Listening closely, I heard Ari count out five $50 bills, four $10 bills, and then hand them over, his voice pleasant. "Thanks, officer. Have a good day. I like your dog, by the way."

Just as the cop started to walk away, thanking my kidnapper, I called out. "Wait! Help me!" Suddenly, the hood lifted away from my face, and fell across my chest. The cop, a fairly young man, probably in his twenties, stared at me.

"Um, dude, you know you have girl tied up in the back of your truck, right?" the cop called.

"No, no, sir, wait, untie me!" I hissed frantically. The hood recovered my face and I yelped. "Wait!"

"Oh, yes, sir," Ari replied. "My wife. She's really into adrenaline. It gets her pretty, uh… Well, she gets more…active…after a little adrenaline rush, if you know what I mean." I screamed, yanking at the ropes, not caring about the pinch anymore.

"That didn't sound very cheerful," said the cop.

Ari laughed. "You should hear some of the _other_ sounds that come out of her. Trust me, she enjoys the fear."

"Oh really? And it really, um, works?" The cop laughed. "Wow. Well, nevertheless, sir, I'm sure there's a law against this, so I'm going to have to—"

"How 'bout a tip?" Ari cut him off, and I heard more paper. My hijacker was loaded. Snarling, I bit my lip. Screaming wasn't any use anymore. However, I cringed at a little wet snuffling around my wrists—gross! What were they doing to me now? The bond tightened, and then suddenly became very slack. My hand flopped to the metal floor. Quickly, I yanked it back and pulled my hood off to see a beautiful German shepherd. My eyes widened and it tilted its head at me, and then began wagging its tail happily. I reached over and quickly untied the knot on my other wrist, then reached out, grabbed the gorgeous dog, and kissed its forehead. It grinned at me, licked my face. I leaned forward, keeping low, and untied my ankles, then slid around onto my stomach, planning the best way to run.

Ari handed over another three $10 bills to the cop, who instantly thanked him, and then questioned how crazy Ari's "wife" got after these "adrenaline rushes". Laughing, Ari only said, "Crazy, man. I'd let you find out for yourself, but I don't she'd go for that."

The cop laughed and thanked him for the offer, pocketed the extra money, and turned to walk away. Ari rolled his eyes. _Who said you can't buy love? _Turning to his passenger, a cohort assigned to him just for this run, he laughed. The partner cackled, too.

"What the hell, man? Didn't know you were that slick. I've heard stories, but it's funny to see it happen. _I_ almost believed you."

Ari chuckled, getting back in the truck. He stuffed the wad of remaining money—about $300—into the ashtray. "Didn't know cops were that _retarded_." Putting it into gear, Ari looked at his side mirror just in time to see the cop's dog bound out of the bed of his truck. Frowning, Ari looked over his shoulder, and spotted…nothing. "She's gone."

"Huh?" the partner replied, turning on the radio. Ari practically snapped the shift back into park, and ripped the keys out of the ignition. "Dude, that was a good song!"

"She's gone!" Without hesitating, Ari threw open his door and jumped out into traffic. Dodging cars, he ran around the truck, yanked out his lackey, and looked around.

_Navy Pier, _his voice suggested. Snarling, Ari wheeled towards the humongous building, jam-packed with awkward tourists, insane vendors, and obnoxious children. Shaking his head, he swiftly headed towards one of Chicago's biggest tourism sites.

Gasping, I sprinted down the main hallway of the Navy Pier building, passing numerous restaurants, kiosks, and souvenir shops. I almost stole an "I heart Chicago" hat, hoping to disguise myself, but decided against it. What I really needed was a new coat. The one I had one was a man's winter jacket, and happened to be about four sizes too large for me. Not to mention, it was zipped on backwards, the hood bouncing in my face. Spying a woman's new "Irish" hoodie spread over her bag, her back to me, I discreetly walked past it, picking it up, and then dashed towards a restroom.

Once inside, I ducked into the handicap stall, and yanked off the smelly jacket, hanging it on the hook, then I reached over my shoulder, and grabbed the duct tape on my wings. Starting to pull it off, I almost screamed. Ripping a small chunk of fabric from the jacket, I stuffed it into my mouth. _Bleck. _Then I reached over my shoulder again, and yanked at the tape. Feathers were pulled from the skin, and I shrieked, but the fabric did its part and completely muffled me. Yank, scream, yank, scream. It continued for a few minutes, until all of the tape was flopping in my hands. Tears were streaming down my face.

Imagine someone covering your head with duct tape while you slept, then ripping it off, and taking all of your hair with it. Many of my beautiful feathers were missing, but at least I could move my wings again. I stretched them a little, then folded them in tightly, and yanked the hoodie on. Stuffing the gag and duct tape wad into the pocket of the jacket, I flushed the toilet, and then slipped out of the stall, leaving the jacket. I walked to the mirror, and looked at my face. Pale, slightly bruised. Freckles. As per usual. My hair looked like crap, and the lady next to me was brushing hers.

"Excuse me ma'am, but could I possibly borrow your hairbrush? I'm about to meet up with my boyfriend, and I forgot my makeup and whatnot." She looked startled, but the woman in her thirties laughed, and gladly handed over her brush. I grinned at her, and ran it through my hair quickly, releasing many knots. My hair fell smoothly again, and I sighed. Better disguise. "Thank you so much." I handed her the brush.

"Of course," she said, with a slight Australian accent. "I remember being your age. Is your boyfriend cute?" She smirked, taking the brush back and slipping it in her purse.

I smiled, but I was thinking of my "husband," Ari. "Yes! He's _so_ cute! I just hope I'm good enough for him…" I sighed, pinching my cheeks.

"I bet you're _too_ good for him." She winked. "But do you want some lipstick?" She grinned. "It's brand new, coffee colored. Would go great with your hair."

I beamed. People _could_ be nice. "Thank you _so_ much!" I took it from her, and quickly applied some. Instantly, I looked sufficiently different from before, and hoped I would blend.

"Welcome! You can keep it—not my color anyway." Winking again, she left. I sighed, getting ready to move to my next hiding spot. However, the cheery tune playing on the radio cut off suddenly, and the PA system kicked on.

"_Will a Ms. Ivy O'Sullivan please come to the lost-and-found by the main entrance. We believe we have found your necklace." _

I gulped. O'Sullivan wasn't my last name, but it was close. Very Irish, which was perfect, but it wasn't correct. Could there be another Ivy wandering through Navy Pier?

Always trust your instincts. Ari was trying to lure me out. Or at least tell me that he knew I was here. But why?

Steeling myself and rolling my shoulders, I walked to the door, and walked confidently across the food court, and towards a staircase in the distance. Reaching the foot of the staircase, one I knew lead to the beautiful Crystal Gardens, I started to ascend. I had come here when I was little and lived on the streets (not much has changed), sometimes I'd hide and spend the night. There was something particularly comforting about the one-acre indoor palm court. The fountains made me happy, and I could always find food scraps. I'd always found Navy Pier slightly cheesy, but Crystal Gardens was perfect. I reached the top of the steps, and glanced over my shoulder quickly, my hair swishing into my face. Spitting out strands, I spotted Ari, headed towards the steps. He hadn't seen me yet.

My heart started to pound. I spun and took off running, doubting my ability to fight. I knew he would win. So instead, I sped through the palm trees, breathing hard. Everything hurt from the rough truck ride. Crossing the acre quickly, I looked back again to see Ari sprinting towards me, his stride about twice the size of mine. Running on his far right, and back a little was another young man. Attractive guy, but when I looked at him more closely, I could see the necklace that _I stole_ swinging around his neck.

I spun around and threw myself at the glass door that lead to the patio. It swung open and I dashed out, raced down the steps and shot off towards the docks. I don't know why I ran that way—I should have looped back towards the building's front, towards Lake Shore Drive, but I guess I'm officially retarded.

The edges of the lake were frozen and the water was dark, icy. I would hate to fall in that. If everything went the way I wanted, I could get far enough away from Ari to duck into the city and hide in a shop or something. As long as it was populated.

I looked over my shoulder again—no one was following me. Maybe I lost them? Could they have given up? Just as I turned my head forward, something hard slammed into my side. Surprised, I completely lost my balance and sailed through the air—right into the lake.

Ice cracked beneath me, cold engulfed me, and instantly, I started shivering. My arms went numb, and I had run out of breath before I hit the water. My lungs are stronger than normal people's, but despite this fact, they froze as soon as I submerged. Gasping underwater, I wriggled, attempting to get to the surface. Something suddenly yanked hard on my wrist, and I shot upwards, appearing face to face with Ari. His hair was slick, his suit was sticking to him, and he was laughing.

"How 'bout _that_ tackle, Sugar?" he said, spinning me around and wrapping an arm tightly around my waist. Then he started to paddle towards the shore.

"Damn. Dude, you are cra-zy. Why'd you go in with her?" The friend stood by the edge, watching, amused.

Ari smirked and pushed me up onto the edge of the dirt. I was literally frozen. "I didn't know if she could swim. Can you swim, Ivy?" he asked, pulling himself out of the arctic water like a seal. I glared. "Guess that's a 'yes'." He shook his head, slid his hands under my arms, and pulled me out, lifting me to his chest. Like a useless block of, well, ice, I didn't fight. Ari put one arm under my knees, the other wrapped around my back, and then he carried me along the street.

"Put…me…down…" I mumbled, shivering like jell-o on a little kid's spoon. Everything ached, and my whole right side felt broken from Ari's tackle. A visit to a chiropractor was sounding more and more appealing, and I don't even _like_ those guys.

"You wanna try walking to the truck by yourself? Good luck, Little Popsicle." He laughed, not putting me down.

"G-go to h-hell!" I choked, and managed to pull back my fist and swing. The solid mass of my bony hand smashed into his jaw. And I shrieked. He winced from the hit, but that was it. No satisfying crunch—just the electric pain in my hand. See, when you're colder, everything hurts more. I cradled my hand against my wet chest and glared at Ari.

"Hey, don't blame me for that, Cutie. That one was all you." I blinked, and I could feel my eyes getting heavier… Hypothermia is my friend.

My shivering ceased. I was starting to feel warm. Yep, delusions should be coming along very soon… I looked back at Ari, and he leaned in to kiss me. I blinked, and he was staring straight ahead. I had imagined it. His friend was talking about aliens—no, wait, tourists. Wait, why was it getting darker? It couldn't be that late?

My head flopped into Ari's chest—he was so warm. My eyes closed, I drifted into the embrace of hypothermia, wondering if anyone would notice.


	3. Your Love Is My Drug

Your Love Is My Drug

December 9

Ari tilted his head, fully aware of how dog-like he looked. Many of his fellow Erasers were staring at him, slightly confused by his interest. They were extremely superficial, and therefore only understood his attraction to her body. However, none of them were there for his first fight with her, and didn't know her personality.

Not like Ari was an expert on her or anything—he was just interested, and planned to make himself an expert on _all_ of her.

It would work out just fine.

"Dude, she's a babe," one Eraser commented. It was true. Her hair was vaguely blonde, but every time she moved her head, it looked like her hair color changed. At certain moments, Ari saw copper, brown, and then blonde again. Her eyes were closed now—she was in the third stage of hypothermia by the time he got her back to the truck, and was still recovering—but he had seen the emerald green shine in them, especially when she was fighting. And man, when she was fighting! Ari had to admit, he started to fear for his life after her groin strike—but he could tell she doubted herself, and so his lie had passed easily. Nevertheless, when she moved and twisted and even punched…hot.

And right now, she was cold as hell. After he had pushed her into the lake (which he had found quite entertaining), her temperature had steadily begun to decrease. Currently, it was around 90 degrees, which was about 15 degrees cooler than her normal body temperature (according to the doctors). Ari ran a nice, hot temperature of 108 degrees Fahrenheit, but apparently females were a bit cooler.

Anyway, by the time he and his partner had reached the truck, Ivy in his arms, the poor freak was as stiff as a board and about as responsive. Her shivering had stopped because she was no longer able to, and her attractive lips had gone blue. The splash of vibrant pink had slipped from her cheeks. Her appealing, petite body was shutting down.

Once Ari had reached the base, doctors had instantly swarmed him, and literally kicked him out, snatching Ivy from his arms. As he was rushed out of the room, he saw her clothing being stripped away (although he didn't _see_ anything), and passed a medic who was murmuring "severe hypothermia," and carrying an IV bag.

Five minutes later, he had taken a squad and infiltrated the security camera room. No one was stationed there and he had clearance, but had quickly switched it over to the main operating room and stationed a guy by the door. Ivy was stretched out on a table, an IV with warming fluids stuck into her arm. Her soaked clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown, and an electric blanket was thrown over her. As Ari and his group watched, she started to stir a little, and complain. They could hear her yell something about, "Leave me alone! I just need a little nap, jerk. Why are you trying to kill me?" She kicked off the blanket. "It's too hot in here! Are you trying to suffocate me?" She reached up to her collar and started to rip off the gown.

The Erasers packed around the screen.

Just before the gown turned to glob-of-fabric-on-the-floor, a doctor pushed Ivy down, and yanked her arms back. The Erasers all swore and started to complain. The doctor and two others held her down and bound her wrists and ankles to the table. She screamed.

She looked so… vulnerable and tempting.

Twenty minutes later, Ari was still watching her squirm, transfixed. She just could not hold still. It probably wasn't up to her at the moment—the chill had disturbed her mind.

Ari dropped his head onto the table and shook it, face down. What was he getting himself into? He really wanted to keep her, but knew it wouldn't be a popular request. He'd have to pull _so_ many strings—not like _that_ would be difficult—and convince so many people of her use. So far, he only had one thing in mind for her, and would definitely need a lot more than _that_.

An Eraser, the one from Navy Pier (worthless piece of crap), walked over to Ari and sat down next to him, smirking. Erasers didn't usually have names, but this one went by the name 'Dax.' No one knew why—not even him, apparently. Anyway, Dax slid languidly into the seat next to Ari, staring at the TV screen and smirking. He opened his mouth and spilled out the lyrics, _"I want your love, and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance…"_ Ari frowned a little, staring at him. He had a decent voice, although Ari didn't recognize the song. "She's hot. But I kinda want to eat her," said Dax. Ari raised an eyebrow. Eat her? That's not what _he_ wanted. He was still stuck on the 'she's hot' part. "Y'know? She just looks so edible!" Dax stared straight at Ari, grinning, eyes wide.

He was obviously crazy. "Are you usually this stupid or are you trying really, _really _hard today?"

"Can I have her when you're done, dude?" Dax pressed, not hearing Ari's insult. "They don't feed me enough, y'know?"

"Bug off, dipstick." Ari turned his head away as Dax laughed. Idiot.

"Aw, man, you are in _so_ deep. That's _bad._" Dax laughed. "Already in love and you've hardly even talked to her! Pretty superficial, ain't ya?" The Eraser punched Ari's shoulder teasingly.

Ari looked back at Dax, glaring. "Pardon me—you must have mistaken me for someone who _gives a damn _what you think." Dax busted up, his head falling back. The mop of bleach blonde hair on his head flew behind him and trembled with his laughter.

"No need to get defensive, bud. Jeez. You're a funny freak, y'know that? I'm sure she's gonna be _totally_ into you. You're personality _totally_ outweighs the fact that you're a freak. She'll be _all_ over you."

His voice could have been a dripping icicle for how sarcastic and cold it was.

Ari's fists clenched. He would show this idiot. She'd be "totally into him." Ari would make her if he had too—but she was _totally_ his. And _only _his. He was tired of everyone deserting him. His whole history was comprised of loneliness and lack of compassion.

It was time to change.

With no warning, Ari's fist snapped out and back so fast that _he _didn't even see it. Dax fell backwards out of his spinney chair, still laughing like a madman, his nose beginning to bleed. He rolled to the side, curling up defensively, but still laughing. Ari kicked him in the back once, or good measure, and then turned back to the screen. Ivy was still wriggling a little, but it wasn't anything he _needed_ to watch. He smirked a little, and looked down at Dax once more before striding out the door.

Time to get something to eat.

I'm not quite sure where I went, but wherever I was, I was pretty darn mellow. After getting knocked into the water, dragged out of the water, and thrown into the truck, my vision was down for the count. Everything was dark, and then suddenly bright. For a moment, I was sure I had died, was going to heaven. Didn't really care where Ari and his goon took me, 'cause I was already gone. But then, I felt this _insane _pain in my back. My wings. See, if I were in heaven, they would have felt fabulous.

Realizing I didn't feel like an angel, I suddenly latched onto the sounds of an engine, and oddly, a radio. It was cranking out some rapper's tune, making the truck thunk its way down the street. I couldn't open my eyes to see where we were, or what comfortable thing my head was rested on. My nose was stuffy. My clothes felt warm and dry, and the warmth in the air made me believe I was on a beach somewhere.

Suddenly, there was movement. Something like a wave of seasickness rolled over me, but there was nothing in my stomach to vomit out. I hadn't eaten in days.

The comfortable pillow and beach were gone, and I felt like a million fat fish were trying to eat me, plucking at my clothes, pinching at my skin. With no warning, they stole the warm fabric right off my body.

The fish, they must have been koi, were _so_ fat and very strong. They picked me up, ignored my resistance completely, and tossed me into a very deep hot spring. And I felt them put a…fishbowl over my head, like in a cartoon.

Too hot. I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating and melting, and those stupid koi were just swimming around. Gasping, I started to kick, swim towards the edge, but with no warning, the koi morphed into one huge sea monster, and it chained me to a rock. I screamed, squirming, but I was worthless.

Attached to a huge slab of stone, up to my neck in boiling water, being suffocated by a fishbowl, I gave up and waited for my Perseus to come and rescue me.

He never came. Or if he did, it was too dark to see him.

"It was touchy for a little while. Her body really isn't meant to withstand that kind of temperature, and, um, you probably shouldn't have pushed her into Lake Michigan, but she pulled through. I guess she's a fighter."

"Damn straight she is. So how long 'til she wakes up?" Ari asked the doctor, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew it made him look more intimidating, and this doctor was insanely squeamish—very entertaining combination.

The doctor's eye twitched. "She should be up and mostly functional in about an hour. B-but she should rest a while. Would you like me to arrange a room for her to be kept for some time?"

_Ari, you know they aren't going to go for her staying in your room. Let him set it up. She'll be fine. If you get too attached too quickly, they'll kill her…and you know that._

"Yeah. That'd be fine. But if you can, try to get a room in my sector—I have a feeling she's gonna make a break for it." He jerked his head, mostly in approval, but the doctor winced.

"Of course. I'll have someone come for you when she's been moved to a room." And with that, the doctor turned and quickly strode down the hall, and back into his office.

Ari snickered.

_So. She's yours for now. But you _felt _how strong she is. What are you going to do to keep her in line? _the voice prompted.

And with that, Ari decided to go practice.

The training room, which resembled a giant wrestling room, was already starting to fill up with Erasers. Nowadays, when Erasers weren't out on missions, they had certain routines they were required to follow. This included clocking in at least two hours of training every other day, just to keep them functional, as well as keep the endorphins flowing through their bodies. Since Ari had supposedly "graduated," he wasn't required to follow these routines, but the higher-ups liked to keep track of his progress. It was close to four, and a large crowd of goons from Sector 2 had already started to filter in. Ari quickly ducked into the locker room, stripped off his dirty silk suit, tossed it in the laundry pile like a rag, and whipped on a white wife-beater and some baggy blue shorts.

Managing to leave the room just as the crowd came in, Ari snatched up his attendance card, punched in, and headed out onto the padded floor.

Erasers tend to get cocky. Before Ari had finished stretching, some bulky noob from Sector 1 (which is closest to the "nursery," the place where the Erasers are first born) had challenged him to a fight. Most of these youngsters had a sort of distorted perspective—they always thought they could win. Honestly, they were bred that way, and pumped full of adrenaline and 'roids to make them think they had a chance. Furthermore, Ari looked like an easy target.

Ari wasn't a test tube baby, and therefore, he was born with human characteristics. Because of this, he had a slightly thinner frame and less bulky muscles than most Erasers (when he wasn't morphed), making him look like a weak link.

Wrong.

After warming up on a pad a little, Ari and the other Eraser positioned themselves in the middle ring of the room, and began to fight. By the time Ari had thrown the other Eraser so hard that teeth had flown, Erasers had started to crowd around.

The noob pulled himself to his feet after Ari threw him, and lunged relentless. With no effort and no sweat, Ari ducked under his arm, grabbed it, reached over to the other arm, and jerked the Eraser into a full nelson.

_Watch his legs,_ the voice warned. Ari looked down as the noob executed an awkward donkey kick, but he was able to step to the side, and then kicked the other knee. With no leg touching the ground, the Eraser lost balance, and fell forward, taking Ari with him. But the noob had skill—he flipped in the air so that he landed on top of Ari. Pain. In. The. Wings.

"Damnit," Ari snarled, rolling to avoid a punch. That was sort of surprising. But maybe he was just out of it. With no warning, a foot hit him in the face just as Ivy's face appeared in his head. "Whoa, there." He coughed, blood coming out of his mouth. Passion suddenly erupted through him, and he popped up to his feet with a nifty little kip. The Eraser noob was grinning, and that really pissed Ari off. Like lighting, he hit the noob in the stomach, and as he keeled, Ari ducked behind him, swung his leg up, and hit the Eraser with a good solid axe kick, right in the spine.

The Eraser whimpered on the floor.

"Jeez, they just don't make 'em like they used to." Ari exclaimed as all the surrounding Erasers gaped at him. "That was _boring_." With that, he stepped off the mat, hiding a little limp, and snatched up a sweat rag. Then he strode off, heading back to the locker room.

"Hey!" came a gruff voice. Ari paused, wiping his face. "Where do you think you're going? I didn't tap! I can still whoop you, freak! Come back!" Something hard smacked the back of Ari's head, jerking him forward a little. He looked at the floor and spotted a light weight medicine ball rolling away from him. Snarling, he threw down the rag, picked up the ball, and then spun, throwing it up, above the Eraser. As the noob looked up to dodge the weight, Ari took to the air and swooped down on the Eraser. With one surprising kick to the throat, a heel kick that broke at least three ribs, and five solid punches to the face, Ari had the Eraser _back _on the ground, bleeding and choking.

"Good luck in the real world, _freak_," Ari growled, breaking the Eraser's radius for good measure. He left the crying noob on the floor for good this time, but as he left another Eraser grabbed his shirt and tried to get in his face. Before that could go anywhere, Ari kneed him in the crotch. But his shirt ripped, showing off more chest muscles.

After he got to the locker room he remembered that all of his clothes were in his room—he hadn't brought anything to change into. Sighing, he left the room, punched out and started down the hallway towards his private room. Before he had gotten more than ten yards, the doctor from earlier assaulted him.

"Batchelder…she's been moved to room 282 in your sector. She should be waking, but we gave her a very small dose of Rohypnol…she should remain…calm."

Ari frowned. Rohypnol? "Isn't that…the date rape drug?"

"Oh, um, yes. But it will help her relax when it kicks in all the way. Have a good day. She's being monitored." And with that, he took off. Ari shrugged, but was suddenly very excited to see his prize. He decided to go find her, and _then_ find clothing.

The room was blurry. Dirty, small, and blurry. The good doc had given me something extra, and I was _seriously_ feeling it. Yeesh. I blinked a few times, and then noticed the cords attached to my wrists and—a bed frame? No, not cords—leather strips. They were on my ankles too. I sighed.

No use trying. These guys seemed pretty constant.

My head ached. My throat was dry. My muscles were beyond sore. And my wings, which someone had tucked beneath me tightly, hurt like sin. Groggy. Foggy. Anyone got some _Claritin_? Annoyed and in pain, I shouted. All kinds of stuff.

Eventually someone came. But I didn't want it to be him.

"Well, hell-o there," Ari said cheerfully. He looked like a basketball player in his outfit, and I frowned. Exercise outfit? Furthermore, why was he there?

I swore at him, but the sudden use of stronger words made my head spin, and I felt suddenly sleepy. "Send someone else," I growled, closing my eyes.

His hand swept across my face gently, toying with my hair. I cringed, and then tried to bite him. The movements made my wrists jerk and I winced as the leather chaffed at my skin. Ari frowned.

"That won't do," he said, reaching across me slowly to undo the bonds. I shuddered, and blinked, but my eyes reopened slower than they should have. Ari was still stretched across me, messing with the leather on my wrists, but the edges of his silhouette were getting hazy—like a mirage. Was I imagining him? "Hmm. Is it hot in here, or is it just you?" he murmured, leaning down and brushing his lips across my cheek.

"You—you are—" I gasped. I couldn't get the words out. My tongue felt like cotton. But all of a sudden, my desire to cuss him out and call him every bad name I could think of melted. No point.

"I am? I'm hot too?" he joked. I could tell from the steadily hazier expression on his face that he had known where I was going. I scowled at him. "Aww, c'mon, Creampuff, smile—it's the _second_ best thing to do with your lips." He smirked, and finished untying another bond.

Where did he get these lines? The Internet? Creampuff? God. I sighed, and suddenly experienced a spark shoot up my leg to my core. I gasped, jolting the bed. Lifting my head slowly, I looked at Ari, who had just brushed his hand up my thigh, pushing the hospital gown up. What did I have on under it? Did I have—?

"Felt good, didn't it?" Ari whispered. I strained to hear him, my body curving to follow his voice. "Bet you five bucks I could make your Thursday a helluva lot more interesting…" His brown eyes locked on my green, and I gasped again.

I couldn't fight. I didn't know how. My brain was…

Ari slid a hand across my collarbone, and my heart rate shot through the roof. His broad, warm palm slipped over my shoulder and snaked down to the tie of the gown. I felt him tug gently, and then rub my wings.

Gasping, I fell backwards onto the single pillow. I couldn't feel any of my limbs. My brain felt like someone had replaced it with a sponge. I couldn't even feel Ari as he straddled my waist. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, but of course, I couldn't feel it. He murmured something, but I couldn't hear. Then he hissed, "Sweet Dreams, Love," and leaned back.

And yet again, I blacked out.


	4. Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

December 10

Waking up, you could have told me a cannonball crash landed on my head and I would have believed you. Headache like sin. Times ten. My wings, which I was still laying upon, hurt like sadomasochism.

I rolled onto my side quickly—too quickly; I got woozy. The room, which I could actually see now, spun. Breathing hard, but trying to relax, I closed my eyes.

When I finally reopened them, I noticed little scratches on my wrists from…from what? They were on my ankles too. I had total bed head. And I was wearing a hospital gown. Where…?

_Captured, Ivy. Remember? That whole dance with hypothermia and whatnot? _

Slowly, things started to come back. Waking up in this…this room? And screaming. Someone needed to come. But it had been Ari. And I _really_ didn't want it to be him. But I couldn't see him all the way—the room had been…fuzzy? No, they gave me something.

_They drugged you, Ivy. They didn't want you to fight._

Fight? Fight what, exactly? Or who? Ari.

I remembered him untying me—the scratches on my wrists and ankles. He had toyed with me. Terrified me. Called me… Creampuff? I couldn't fight. I remembered things getting blurrier and blurrier. And he sat on top of me and played with my gown…

Suddenly, I realized that my memory of the previous night ended there. With Ari straddling me, and me being a complete and total creampuff—no ability to fight, no consciousness to retaliate.

What had… What happened?

_Oh, damnit._

"Hey, Batchelder, heard you had some fun last night. How was she?"

"Mmhmm, saw you bring her in. She looked tasty! Tiny little girl—how old was she, ten?"

Ari sighed. Bombardment. He should have known this was going to happen, and should have attempted to come up with a halfway decent story. Instead, all that came out was, "Haha, yeah!" All of the Erasers in the locker room stared at him. They wanted answers, and he needed to deliver.

"So?" probed a brawny guy, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

"Uh… She's seventeen. And umm… she's… fun?" He murmured, feeling the eyes of many. Normally, he would have had so many snide remarks, plenty of little details. But today, Ari was…off.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. She _is?_ You mean she's still alive?" asked one Eraser. Ari's eyes snapped to him. "She survived a night with an Eraser?" He looked genuinely confused.

Ari frowned. He wasn't like them. Just because they frequently morphed out and killed their girls didn't mean it happened to everyone. But he hadn't even… "Of course."

The Eraser tilted his head, still confused. "Oh. Okay." Then he turned his back on Ari and joined the other Erasers. Ari frowned and finished pulling on regular clothes. He hadn't fought with anyone today—only a punching bag—so his stained t-shirt and basketball shorts weren't very dirty. He tossed them in his locker, and pulled up the zipper on his jeans.

Still frowning, he slipped out of the locker room, pulling on a plain white shirt as he walked. Once he was in the hallway, passing numerous doctors in nondescript white lab coats, Ari was assaulted by his lack of anything last night.

It hadn't been what he wanted. Of course, since Ivy was drugged, Ari knew he could get anything. She didn't need to love him—maybe that would come later—but he hadn't expected her to be so…afraid of him. But then, as the date rape drug kicked in and she lost more and more of her ability to fight, Ari lost his concern. He had been ready—he wanted her, could smell her fear and was actually attracted to it. And she wouldn't remember anything. It was perfect.

But as he straddled her and started to remove the crappy, vulnerable hospital gown that the idiot doctors had dressed her in, he looked at her face. Her eyes were half open, looking just past him blankly. Her mouth, that adorable little mouth, was open in a little "O," like she was surprised. Her head had fallen back into the single, dull pillow.

She looked like a child.

_She's seventeen. She's closer to being an adult than a child. _

Taking a deep breath, Ari had looked away from her face, down at her chest and reached back to her gown. As he worked it off to her shoulder, he picked up one of her arms and pulled it through, freeing it. When he released her wrist, the arm fell so that her dainty hand landed on his upper thigh, palm down.

It was like she was trying to hold him back.

Ari stared at her hand on his leg for a couple of long, silent minutes, still sitting on her hips. His cockiness was starting to melt—she just looked so…small.

But he was a killer. He didn't show mercy. He didn't feel pity. So why was he hesitating? From the moment he had spotted his mark, the petite thief in the jewelry store of a mall, he had wanted her in this position. Ari Batchelder finally had caught someone, who, at that point in time, couldn't leave him. So why wasn't he taking advantage of it? Of her?

Frowning, beyond confusion, Ari slipped off of her, putting himself in a standing position next to the bed. He stared at her face, watched a tiny twitch around her nose. It was cute, and for the first time in a long time, he smiled. Just a smile, not a smirk or a sneer. Then he did the first thing that came to mind.

Ari had leaned over her and pressed his mouth to hers. Her mouth really was dainty—but her lips were soft and warm. After a second, Ari didn't want to be done. He went far enough to lick her lip just a little, and then forced himself to pull away. Staring at her unresponsive face, he had murmured, "Dream of me."

With that, Ari had turned around and strode to the door, glancing back at her inanimate form once more before closing and locking the door behind him.

Tucking the key into his pocket, Ari had realized something. Not only did he not want to hurt Ivy, he wanted her to like him…

He wished that when they had advanced his age, they had left him without teenage hormones. Being a kid was _so_ much easier than this.

"'Dream of me.' What was I thinking?" Ari said out loud. A passing Eraser looked at him, confused. "I'm retarded! She was drugged!" Ari shouted at him, and the Eraser jumped, speeding up a little. "GOD, I'm a loser."

After I had finally gained the ability to see straight, I got to my feet. The room I was in was a piece of work. It looked like a murder scene from one of the mellower "Law & Order" episodes. There were bloodstains worked into the walls and the ashen paint was chipping. The floor, you would think, would be slightly more conventional than the rest of the building. You would be wrong—same old, dull linoleum. The bed was a double, and I could see it's springs sticking out. The frame…was probably from the 20s. It was iron, had lost any original shine, and resembled a slightly nicer bed than one you would find at an orphanage. At least in the movies.

I looked at the far wall, and spotted a window. However, when I rushed over to look closer, I realized that it had a crisscrossing pattern over it—bars.

Not getting out that way.

There was a tiny little kitchenette in one corner—just a table, a very outdated microwave, and an icebox. I dashed to it, my stomach growling, and threw open the door.

Nada. Not even _ice_ in the icebox.

"Ugh! C'mon! You couldn't at least have left me some food after you…" I screamed aloud, but trailed off. I didn't actually know what anyone had done to me, and I didn't want to consider it. But it was a lingering issue.

Off of one of the sides of the room, to the left of the bed, was a tiny bathroom. I went to it, quickly used it, and then looked around. Toilet and a sink. No shower or tub. Thing were gonna get nasty around here. An un-bathed me was not a person anyone wanted to deal with. Even living on the streets and stealing clothes, I had managed to stay clean for the most part, much to the chagrin of many other homeless people of the 'Windy City'.

_Hospital gown…is scratchy. Need real fabric! _My eyes hurt as I looked at the paper gown that draped off of my thin frame. I swear I'm not that superficial, but paper doesn't cut it. At least put me in a potato sack. Sighing, I realized that they hadn't left me real clothes either. No food, no fabric, no freedom. Life sucks.

Snarling, I pulled the skimpy sheet off the bed. Once in the bathroom, which gave me a small sense of security, I stripped off the gown (they had stolen my underwear and bra—idiots). Then I quickly ripped a strip off the edge of the sheet, put that to the side, and ripped a hole for my head. Pushing my head through the hole, which hung loosely below my collarbone, I wrapped the fabric around myself like a tightly fitted poncho, and then tied it around my waist with the remaining strip of fabric. All in all, it looked like a kindergartener's imitation at a Greek chiton. Nevertheless, it was a step up from the hospital gown, which I threw under the bed.

_Now what to do? Wait for someone to come and harass me? _I had no good ideas, escape-wise. I was strong, but I could tell from looking, there was no way I could bend those bars on the window, or slip through them. The door...maybe I could break it, but I would have wagered my meager clothes that someone was nearby to prevent me from getting far. But then again, was I _that_ important?

I decided it was worth a try. Hoisting my sheet up, I stretched out in a painful runners pose. _Gah…_ Then I braced myself and charged at the door.

Sighing, Ari wandered down her hallway, the key to her door weighing heavily in his pocket. Still feeling slightly childish and yet perverted, like a 4th grader with a crush on a preschooler, he debated whether or not to tell her that he hadn't done anything to her last night. His brain was saying, "Ari, you know 'honesty is the best policy'!" but when had it ever been right? Everything else said, "Lie. Girls like mysterious men."

Confounded, he decided to roll with the punches. Sliding the key from his pocket to the hole, he unlocked the door and pushed the handle. He barely had time to register the blonde object dashing towards him before he found himself sprawled on his back in the hallway.

When he thought 'roll with the punches,' he hadn't expected to actually have to _roll_. Head spinning, he realized that _she_ was sprawled on top of _him_, and was getting up to go. Panicking, he closed his arms and legs around her, feeling like he was wrestling a baby alligator. As she struggled, he snarled, and, stressed as he was, he morphed.

It only lasted a second. The pain of claws shooting through his fingertips, his jaw instantly elongating to form a muzzle, his back hunching, ears and a tail pushing out of him, and fur erupting all along his body; it only lasted a blink. But it was enough. As his claws grew, they grew into Ivy's side and arm that he was holding, gouging her skin. His muzzle was centimeters from her neck, breathing hot air. As he grew and his back hunkered to maintain stability for his increased weight, he curved more and more around her, making her even more diminutive. The ears, tail, and fur were just freaky, he knew. He was already morphing back to his human form—painfully—as she screamed.

Her scream was piercing. He could hear fear, anger, and confusion in it—it hurt his ears. While she shrieked, and started jerking more and more fearfully, he tried to calm down, but found himself releasing her. However, she was blocked from shooting off down the hallway by guards on all sides. Ari could smell her fear, as if it was a perfume, and sat up quickly in time to see her race back into the room and then to the bathroom. He heard the door slam.

_As if that will do any good_, he thought.

Internally, he was reeling. The wolfish side of him—the one he had worked so hard to maintain, and which had still popped out—wanted to chase her. Pin her down. Bite. Kill. Maim. Anything. He wanted her. He understood why the Erasers had discussed murdering their girls. Her fear was arousing. But his humanity still survived a little, and he remembered again how her hand had fallen delicately onto his knee the previous night.

With three deep breaths from his seat on the ground, he got to his feet, went into her room, and closed the door behind himself.

_Holy shiz!_ My brain was fried. Did I really just see that? He turned into a freaking wolf!

I found myself muttering. It took me a minute to realize what I was saying. "By the dragon's light, on this December night, I call to thee to give me your might… By the power of three, I conjure thee to protect all that surrounds me. So mote it be. So mote… So mote it…" Where on earth did I get that? Then I remembered. There was this superstitious granny who thought she was a witch and lived at one of the shelters I used to crash at. She used to recite that every night, like she actually believed it worked.

I was going crazy. I then noticed that I was curled in a ball under the sink in the tiny bathroom with the door closed. It had no lock. I believed I had seen a creepy man turn into a wolf…and I was mindlessly reciting a prayer to who knows who. I was going crazy.

_Oh, God. Ohhh, God. What the hell is wrong with me?_

I don't really know how long I was in there before I realized I needed to face my fears and go back out of my bathroom. I carefully adjusted my sheet, making sure I was covered, and then noticed the blood. It was _my_ blood, drawn from…claw marks. Or something. Whatever. My dirty, white sheets were now just plain…dirty.

The bathroom door was a little creaky, only intensifying my discomfort as I opened it. Carefully emerging into my room, I spotted him. He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, staring at the floor. His shirt was ripped in several places, his hair especially messy. I don't know what I was thinking, but I tried to sneak past him. Before I took five steps, he was standing in front of me, blocking _everything_.

"Where are you going, Slick-Chick?" he asked. "You don't want to stay with me?"

I gulped, took a deep breath. And with no warning, I darted past him. Or at least I thought I did until I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me back to his body.

"No!" I wailed. "I don't want to stay with you! I don't want you to…! To do anything to me! Just let me go! Why do you want me anyway?"

He smirked. "Babe, can you help me with something?" He asked. He pulled a rag from the pocket of his jeans. "Tell me—does this smell like chloroform?" Before I could retaliate, I was snorting a scentless piece of fabric, and collapsing into his arms. I heard him murmur to me, "I like your toga," as I blacked out.

I knew I was only out for a few minutes, but even minutes felt precious to me at that point. When my eyes finally opened themselves, I was laying back against a cushy set of pillows on a ridiculously large, California King sized bed, complete with comforter and flannels. Confused and completely lost again, I bolted upright and started to roll towards the edge of the bed. Somehow, I got stuck in the covers. Flailing wildly, I managed to worm over to the edge, but fell off clumsily, and stood up to face Ari yet again.

"_That_ was attractive," he stated sarcastically. "Here." Awkwardly, he held out a glass of water towards me. I looked at it, my throat suddenly feeling insanely dry—and yet I refused. He read my mind and took a sip from it. When he didn't keel over, I snatched the glass from his hands and took a step back from him. The water was gone in seconds from my chugging.

Gasping, I asked, "Where are we now?"

Ari smirked, looking around a little. I followed his gaze. The room, dominated mostly by the gigantic bed, also included a little refrigerator, a walk-in closet, a hallway that I realized led to a master bathroom, a small living room continuing to the bedroom, and a door the size of Texas. There was one large window, but the curtains were closed. Nevertheless, I could see the silhouette of bars on them. "This, Darling, is my bedroom. And the door has steel reinforcements." He stared at me as I realized the severity of my situation. As my face fell and I started to feel the effects of a drug in my system, he darted towards me, pushing me back to the bed, tackling me, and pinning me down in the jungle of covers and pillows.


	5. Under Pressure

Under Pressure

December 11

Ari woke up, face down in a pillow, gasping for breath and feeling like an idiot. His brilliant ploy to get another chance at Ivy backfired. He probably wouldn't have pulled anything, but still, he should have expected her to think the water was drugged...and maybe thought of a way to evade drinking it.

_I'm such a dork. God. _

Grunting, Ari looked down at his chest. Her tiny hand and whole right arm were pinned beneath his weight. She was lying on her back, her legs bent in an awkward position—she hadn't moved since he tackled her. His right arm was bent across her chest, his hand resting on her left shoulder—where he had pushed her. Sighing, Ari rolled off of her and into a sitting position, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed slightly. He knew that his little sip of Rohypnol only knocked him out for about four hours, where as she was down for the count for about eight. He still had time…

_Ah, screw it. _Ari didn't have the energy to do _anything_, and didn't really feel motivated. Plus, considering her fear of his Eraser side, her fear of his human side had to have intensified over night. He looked over his shoulder at her delicate face. As if on cue, her eyelids fluttered, she moaned, and murmured, "No… Please, no!"

For a moment, Ari had the strangest desire to cry. He _never_ cried. But when he was very, very little, still completely human, he had been told the story of "Beauty and the Beast." Suddenly, Ari felt this strange compassion for the Beast. Ari's own bestiality was disturbing. He was a total human on the outside—even said to be decently attractive—but the lupine DNA that had been added to him had not only given him the ability to morph…it had penetrated his mind. Internally, Ari was disgusting. And he knew it.

Ari had been told that as he aged, the pain would go away. The pain of morphing, mostly, as well as a few other things. It was true for the most part. But the pain he felt when he hurt others… Corny as he knew it was, maybe he still had a conscience.

Hungry, Ari got to his feet. He looked around the room, hating it. It had been built just for him—almost like…a stereotypical bachelor's pad. It looked like the kind of room that belonged to someone with no friends. Like it belonged to someone who had girls coming every night. Someone who really had no life. The fridge in the corner was beckoning him. As Ari opened it, he realized that someone had restocked it during the night.

_Ugh. I wish they'd stay out of here. Especially when I have a 'guest,'_ Ari thought. Then he realized that he sounded exactly like what he had just described and loathed to consider himself to be. He snarled and snatched a piece of cold pizza, devouring it quickly.

The tan leather chair in his living room called him, and he stomped over to it. It was cool, but comfortable.

_Ari…what are you going to do with her? _asked his Voice. _Do you really think they're going to go for your plan? _

"Get out of my head," Ari hissed. Ivy stirred on the bed across from him. "Look, if they don't like the whole 'I'm desperately lonely and could use some comfort' idea, I've got a backup plan." Rolling his eyes and experiencing a sudden burst of energy, Ari stood up and slunk down the hallway to his bathroom.

The bathroom was large and decadent, also giving Ari the sensation of being some ridiculous playboy. All marble, it contained a gigantic Jacuzzi bathtub, a glass door shower with ridiculous dimensions and about eight water jets, a solid vanity with an insanely shiny mirror, and a toilet stall. Not to mention, an MP3 system. Ari hated it. Too fancy, too industrial. The music was okay, but that was about it. Starting up the shower and popping on "Hell's Bells" by AC/DC, Ari smirked.

_Ari… What's your so-called "backup plan"?_ said the Voice, androgynous and snarky as always.

"Simple," Ari said, stripping down and getting in the steamy water. "I give them what _they_ want. A soldier."

"_I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine/ If you're into evil, you're a friend of mine/ See my white light flashing as I split the night/ 'Cause if good's on the left, then I'm stickin' to the right…"_ *

Sleep is weird when you're not sure if what you're dreaming is actually happening or not. I vaguely remember what I think I dreamed. Right after Ari tackled me, I fell backwards into the middle of a football game. Way off balance, I ended up at the bottom of a dog pile, and then realized I was holding the ball. I sank through the ground…and into the arms of men dressed in all black—I couldn't see their faces. They were dangling me over the edge of a cliff, and at the bottom, a snake pit. _"No…Please, no!"_ I shouted at them as they let me fall. I couldn't scream. Just before I landed, I hit water… An octopus's tentacles replaced the snakes writhing bodies, and they pulled me down, deep beneath the surface. A shark suddenly arrived and chomped the tentacle around my waist, freeing me. I grabbed its dorsal fin, and it took me for a ride—in the wrong direction. Then it offered me an iPod that was playing a track by AC/DC. Confused, I lost my grip and drifted away onto a cloud. Suddenly, the cloud tried to strangle me. Writhing to evade its fluffy grip, I startled myself, and awoke to find that I was rolled up in the covers of Ari's bed.

Gasping, I detangled myself. My wings were still sore, as well as my arms (for some reason). Then I noticed a mass of…something pinning down the covers near my back. Panicking, and assuming it was Ari in bed beside me, I flipped over and slammed my elbow into—a pile of clothing. Women's clothing.

_Yes! Finally, damnit. _I pulled myself to a sitting position and picked up the clothes. On top of them lay a sheet of paper, with a note that read:

_Good morning, Love! _

_ Sorry I couldn't be there when you woke up—had to go deal with an issue. I will be back 10:00 to pick you up for a 'grand tour.' And, although I like the 'toga' look, I'd recommend you put on these clothes (or I'll have to put them on you). Figured you'd like green. Feel free to use the shower down the hall—I turned off the cameras, just for you._

_ —Tag, you're it,_

_Ari _

I frowned at the letter. An issue? Grand tour? Toga? _Cameras?_ Then I shook my head, picked up the clothes, crumpled up the letter, and shakily made my way down the hall to his bathroom.

His _bathroom_ was bigger than any room I had ever 'owned.' The marble was so clean that I could see my dirty reflection in the walls. Not to mention, the one, huge mirror was as shiny as a ray of sun, and hung over a large, masculine vanity built into the marble walls. There was a bathtub, which I would have jumped for the opportunity to use, had Ari not mentioned cameras at all. Even though he was probably just trying to freak me out. Instead, I did angle towards the humongous, glass door shower and removed my 'toga.' It took me a minute to figure out how to turn on the shower, but then I managed. I can't even begin to tell you how good the water felt. I found a loofah that appeared to be set-aside for me next to a set of bottles—mint scented shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel.

_How did Ari know I liked mint?_

The only bad part of that shower was cleaning my wings. Luckily, I noticed that the width of the shower seemed to have been designed for someone with wings (or a _very_ big party), so that they could open them—perfect. Clean, only with water, my wings felt sufficiently better, but as I inspected them, I noticed a lot of missing feathers. The skin beneath was raw and reddish, stripped down by duct tape.

Feeling strangely angry at the world, I dressed in the clothes he had left me. Low-rise yoga pants—black, with a fold over waistband—and a green exercise camisole with a ruched bust, pinstriped bodice, and built in bra. As I pulled it on, my wings slipped smoothly through the straps and folded over the shirt—a good fit. _Nice of him to leave me underwear_, I thought. They were green as well.

Finding a brush, I worked through the rat nests in my hair, revealing decently smooth but messy (in a way) blonde hair. I attacked it with a towel until it was mostly dry—only the tips were still wet—and then flipped it back. All in all, I felt like a new model for some ridiculously expensive new exercise line.

After a minute, I heard a huge, terrifying growl. Jumping, I realized it was my stomach. How long had it been since I'd eaten? Too long. I made my way back down the hall towards the bedroom. Then I quickly peeked at the door, saw that it was still closed tightly, and dashed to the little fridge. Pulling it open, I found—nothing.

"Damn!" I shouted, slamming the door shut and then kicking the fridge. My stomach rumbled like a thunderstorm, and I swore further.

"Hungry?" said a voice behind me. I jumped, spinning around. Ari was standing in the doorframe, staring at me. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. We were both silent, but then I caught a whiff of…meat. My mouth started to water, and my stomach made this ridiculous gurgling sound. Ari laughed out loud, closing the door behind him as he came in. "I'll take that as a yes." He seemed to realize that I thought he was carrying food on him somewhere—maybe by the fact that I was standing within three feet of him _voluntarily_, and sniffing at the air like a wild animal—because he spoke up and said, "Ready to go? They have food in the cafeteria, Babe. Sadly, they don't keep my pockets stocked, so don't try to rob me of what I don't have." He grinned at me as I sighed audibly. "C'mon. You'll like the cafeteria."

Scowling and terribly silent, I followed him out of the room and down a stark hallway, my feet bare. For some reason, I made myself believe that not talking would cause Ari to loose interest in me… I was an idiot. Instead, he paid _more_ attention.

"So, how was your morning?" he asked cheerfully, walking next to me. I looked up at him, narrowed my eyes, and looked back away. No sound but the padding of my feet. "So it was good? That's good. Mine was good, too. Did you enjoy the shower?" he said, as if I were part of the conversation. He was staring at me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, onto my face—like a wildfire. I was going to blow soon if he didn't shut up.

I still refused to answer, but my stomach spoke up. _Guuuurrrrrrrrrrrggggllle. _

Ari laughed. "We're almost to the cafeteria. When you're done eating, I'll show you around a little more, okay? Turn left here." I did so, staring straight ahead. "So I'm guessing you didn't like the shower? Maybe it would have been better if I stayed and shared it with you… I just didn't want you to feel like you needed a supervisor." He smirked. No supervisor? Wasn't I a prisoner? "You smell nice… and I like this outfit on you. I'm glad I took the time this morning to steal something decent. Is it comfortable? Actually, I don't care. I like it. Y'know, don't think I got a good-morning kiss, Poppet. Did I? Help me remember?"

At the word 'Poppet,' I lost it. Aside from the context, I had encountered only one other person in my life that was brave enough to call me 'Poppet.' He had been trying to woo me in order to prevent me from robbing him of a huge stack of $100 bills (on commission for a very discreet client, of course). As he spoke to me, he promised me more money, a home, and _anything_ I could want from him, if I were to do _one private little thing _with him and leave him be. He called me 'Poppet.' I believe last I heard, he was still in a coma with two broken limbs, and no one in his family had yet to find any of his possessions.

So, yeah, I can be brutal.

"God _damnit_, would you _shut up_?" I screamed, turning on him in the middle of an intersection in the hallways. "Why are you so freaking obnoxious? You know what, fine. Fine! My morning was _terrible_, 'cause I woke up in someone else's bed, with _no_ memory of the past two nights—and no one was there to explain _jack_. I don't _care_ if your morning was good, bad, or ugly. The shower was _fine_, and I don't _ever_ want to share _anything_ with you! Yes, the clothes are comfortable; especially considering they're the first _real_ clothes anyone's given me in…in what, two days? I've had better treatment in _homeless shelters_! No! I'm _not_ giving you a 'good-morning kiss,' and I'll _never_ kiss you of my own free will. And if you _ever_ call me 'Poppet' again, I swear to some higher power that I _will_ kick your ass from here to next week!" I stopped to catch my breath. I probably would have continued cussing him out and jabbing him in the chest with my finger if he hadn't been…laughing.

Ari stared at me, waiting for me to finish, but as I got closer to the end of my rant, his sly smile turned more and more into a sneer. Finally, he just busted up, doubling over a little. "Wow, Shorty. You've got a mouth. Pretty cute one, no less…" he joked, and then cracked up again. I couldn't help it. He wasn't looking, so I pulled back my fist. Just as my punch shot out, he looked up and blocked my arm to the side, throwing me off balance so that I spun on my heel before falling backwards…right into Ari's arms. "Careful, Toots. You might hurt yourself." He was still chuckling—I could _feel_ it. His arms were wrapped around my waist, my arms trapped beneath his.

"Let go," I snarled through my teeth.

"Hmm… no," Ari murmured in my ear.

"Let go of me _right_ now or I swear to God, I will—" I threatened. The rest of it was the best part—involved a cactus and a skyscraper—but I was unable to finish because something covered my mouth.

It took me a few seconds to figure out that it was Ari's lips, silencing me.

Free will was unnecessary.

Ari held her tightly, pressed up against him. He could feel her every movement—like when she realized he was kissing her and not gagging her. And when she started struggling against him. It was cute—like she could keep him from getting what he wanted! Ha! Ari's body curved around her, his arms wrapped tightly, his neck and head titled down, over her shoulder, and around to her face awkwardly. The awkwardness for him was totally worth it. She was delicious, and he could have kissed her for hours.

Hearing wolf whistles, Ari became aware of the presence of a couple other Erasers in the hallway intersection. The whistling and constant shouts of, "Dude! Get some!" made Ari's blood boil with pressure. But he kind of enjoyed it—it was an expectation he had to live up to. He kissed harder.

Recognizing Ari's sudden conviction—and obviously feeling pressure as well—Ivy struggled harder. She was slipping away. With no hesitation and no warning, Ari spun her out of his arms and up against a wall. Before she realized what had happened, Ari had leaned against her and was kissing her again, only less awkwardly.

"Damn," said an Eraser. "Look at them go!"

It was probably at that point that Ivy just completely lost it.

Ari was too caught up in her mouth to pay much attention to her knees. That is, until one of them flew up between his legs. Startled and, of course, in pain, Ari's arms flew away from Ivy and he jolted backwards, slamming into a wall. He swore, wincing. Forcing his eyes open, despite their sudden wateriness, Ari spotted Ivy across from him, her hands balled tightly into fists, her eyes practically shooting flames. Despite the slowly fading pain, Ari couldn't help but smirk at her. Ivy's fiery passion was just so damn amusing.

An Eraser rushed at Ivy as she stomped towards Ari, ready to fight. The idiot stood in front of her, like she would say, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll back off due to your immense size." Instead, before the Eraser could do anything, Ivy threw a ridiculous right hook that smashed the Eraser's nose sideways, spurting blood.

"She broke my nose! Holy… _God damnit_, you little—" he started cupping his face in his hands. As he began to go after her, Ivy spun quickly and shot her leg up into the air. As she turned, her heel caught the side of the Eraser's head with a dull thud, and he fell to the ground, silent. Confused, a different Eraser rushed her, not thinking. As he came closer, clumsily running, Ivy put her right foot in his stomach, grabbed his shirt lapels, and rolled backwards, launching him over her—he flew a couple of feet and then face planted the wall.

Ari watched, amused. Two down in less than 60 seconds. There was one remaining Eraser, but this one was a little smarter—tried to talk things out.

"Look, Sweetheart," he started, putting his hands up in front of him as if to soothe the savage beast. "Maybe you should just… stand down… a little?"

Snarling, Ivy stomped towards him, and grabbed his hair before he noticed her so close. "I'm not your sweet _anything_!" she shouted, pulling his head down, wrapping her arm around his neck, and then pulling tightly. Ari watched her take one very heavy blow to the head from the Eraser's fist, but she maintained a strong grasp, and choked him until he fainted. Then she released him—he flopped to the ground.

"I sure hope they caught all of _that_ on film—I don't think anyone believed me when I told them you could fight," Ari joked. Despite his jovial words, he was definitely in pain, and beneath the pain he could feel a building anger. He wanted to hit her, and the way she kept approaching led him to believe that he was about to. Her hands were clenching and unclenching slightly, her glare was like poison. Poison Ivy. Ari snickered, standing up straight but still leaning against the wall and wincing slightly. "You're gonna fit in perfectly around here," he murmured.

With one quick stride, she was standing in front of him, her hand balled up in the front of his shirt. She pushed him back against the wall, which he hadn't expected, and his head smashed it violently. Using the whiplash of the bounce of his head, she pulled him forward, close to her face.

"Damn," Ari snarled, dazed. He wasn't having a very good day so far. "You sure know how to—"

Ivy growled, "Shut up. I'm sick of your mouth and what comes out of it. Give me anymore of this 'Poppet-enjoy-the-shower-and-gimme-a-kiss?' crap and I'm going to _break_ your mouth. Sound fair?" She yanked his shirt, jerking him around.

Ari laughed in her face. "Yes, of course… Poppet."

"Argh!" Ivy growled. She pulled back her fist and slammed him in the face, still holding his shirt. Ari blinked, but he was stronger than she thought. He shook his head a little and then smiled at her. "Damn you for being so incorrigible!" As she snarled, Ari snapped out his fist straight into her stomach. He knew she wasn't expecting it, and so she released his shirt, stepping back. Coughing, she put up her fists, but it was too late. Ari had spun her around, tackled her, and pinned her down on the ground by sitting on her. Before she had time to do anything, Ari grabbed her wrists, jerked them roughly behind her back, and held them there with one hand. Shaking his head and laughing, he leaned over to one of the unconscious Eraser bodies and pulled a pair of handcuffs off of his belt.

"Did I mention that I _love_ being on top of you?" Ari joked, cuffing her.

"Did I mention how much I _hate_ you?" she growled in response, face down on the linoleum.

Ari smirked. "Ooh… Strong words." He stood, then reached down and pulled her to her feet easily. She stumbled a little, but then stood tall and proud. "You look hungry."

We left the bodies of the three unconscious men in the hallway. I was slightly confused at how easily Ari seemed to move on. Obviously, I didn't understand how he connected to _anyone_, but it still seemed odd to just _leave behind_ his… comrades?

Sadly, my little "break your mouth" pep talk had rolled off of Ari like water off a duck. I felt like I had been pretty convincing, and I was serious about beating him up. And yet here he was, jovially making small talk about what the cafeteria offered.

Did he really think I gave a crap about the delicious steak they offered? My stomach growled, but I could hardly enjoy dreaming about food when I had other things on my mind…

Things like… _Like that kiss. What was that all about? And by the way, EWW. Talk about disturbing. The way he held me… And that whole peer pressure thing—he seemed to gain more interest once his friends showed up. It was all just so… Ugh. _

Or at least that's what I told myself. I believed it too, for the most part. But there was some tiny part of me that wanted Ari, in a very twisted "I would rather rip of your head than kiss you…but since I can't really rip off your head" way. And _that_ was what disturbed me most.

When we reached the cafeteria, Ari led me into line. My wrists were starting to sting from the cuffs, but when I looked around, I forgot about everything. The "cafeteria" was about the size of a ridiculously large gym. The whole room, besides the main lines, was filled with bench style tables, and probably seated close to 400 people. Currently, it looked pretty empty. My eyes were huge, but then I turned and looked at the food. The first area of food was devoted completely to meat.

Now, I may not have emphasized this enough already, but I love meat. I'm a total carnivore, despite the fact that I'd eat almost anything to survive.

I was so caught up in the scents and visions of meat of every kind that I didn't even hear Ari talking to me.

"Ivy. Here you go," he repeated. I jumped and looked down at his hands—he was holding out a solid plastic tray. I stared at it, and then at him. "It's for your food, Babe." He smirked at me like I was slow.

"As much as I _really_ want to take that and fill it with food…" I turned my back to him. "My hands are 'kinda tied up.'"

"Oh, forgot about that. Now, I'll take them off if you promise me something," Ari began. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was reaching into his pants to get the key, but his eyes were all over me. I got goose bumps and glared at him.

"If you want me to promise to—"

"No, not that. Not yet." He winked. "Just promise me that you won't try to run, fight, or hit me. My face is almost sore."

I sighed. Details. "I _promise _not to run, fight, or hit you—unless someone attacks me, looks at me like I'm dessert, or calls me _anything_." Ari shook his head.

"I can't really control all of those things, but I suppose that's a start." He pulled up against him and removed my shackles. I turned around, rubbing my wrists, to see Ari staring at the handcuffs. He cocked his head. "Y'know what? I'm hanging on to these." He pocketed them. "Might be…useful."

Rolling my eyes, I picked up the tray.

Minutes later, we were seated at our own little section of one of the long benches. I found it entertaining and angering that many of the young men started to flock towards us and seat themselves in positions that allowed them to stare at me with nothing interrupting the view. I looked at Ari once, and he had a ridiculous grin on his face. Scowling, I returned to my food—and what a feast it was. I hadn't been allowed this much food in weeks, and the last time was when I crashed a corporate company dinner party. The plastic tray was filled with delicious roast beef, a hamburger, two hot dogs, a chicken salad, a slice of pizza, and a few small side dishes. Still feeling groggy, I had snatched a humongous cup of coffee.

It was safe to say that I was acting like a pig—and I couldn't care less. In fact, it was very satisfying to watch all of my admirers' confusion at my ability to down so much food. It wasn't my intention, but by the time I had finished about ¾ of the food, I had Ari laughing so hard he had to put down his sandwich.

"Do you always eat this much?" asked one of the men across the table. He looked like someone was pulling a prank on him. I took a deep breath and finished chewing the bite of hot dog I had just taken.

"No."

"So… Why are you eating so much now?"

"'Cause I _can_," I replied, narrowing my eyes and taking another gigantic bite of hot dog.

After I finished eating, Ari showed me where to take my tray. Then, he spoke up. "Alright—I promised a little bit more of a tour. Will you keep up your promise of no running, no fighting, no hitting Ari?" I nodded. "Alright. Then no handcuffs."

The tour was pretty small. Ari didn't really _show _me that much—mostly just told me what all the important rooms were (like sharing his world would win my trust); for instance, the surveillance room, the sauna, and the training room. He led me into the latter, telling me that it was one of the rooms I would spend a lot of time in.

Yet again, it was one of those oversized rooms. I had been to a high school before—out of pure curiosity—and had wandered into a wrestling room. This reminded me very much of that. The walls and floor were completely covered in pads, and there were a few raised areas—I assumed they were supposed to be fighting arenas. In one corner, there was a numerous amount of punching bags in all shapes and sizes. In another corner, there was a door. "That leads to the locker rooms," Ari murmured. I nodded and then wandered away from Ari, further into the room. I had been too caught up in the layout of the room to consider the people in it. There were fights going on everywhere, but it appeared that everyone's attention was focused on one specific battle between a _very _burly guy, and an average looking man.

Burly was winning. By a lot. I could only see a few scrapes on him, but the average guy—who was about Ari's size—was shredded, had a black eye, and was sporting so many bruises that they were impossible to count. Not to mention, he was stumbling like a drunken man. Seconds later, average guy was on his back, wailing like a baby as the buff guy wailed on _him. _No one was helping the average guy. They were all standing around and watching the young man get the snot beat out of him. His blood was _everywhere_.

"Hey!" I shouted, forgetting completely that these guys were holding me captive. I couldn't watch the underdog get pounded. "Stop!" Before anyone could stop me, I had dashed over and jumped up on the platform, stepping in between the two men. "What are you doing?" I shouted at the burly guy.

"Winning," he said, shrugging. Then he slipped past me, picked up the young guy by his shredded shirt collar, and tossed him off of the platform. He landed on his arm with a sickening crunch, but by that point he was unconscious. I turned away from him and looked at Burly, whom had a fist pumped into the air. Without hesitating, I clocked him in the jaw. Caught completely off guard, he fell backwards and landed on his ass.

"You're so retarded! It was pretty obvious he wasn't getting back up when he fell the first time. Why did you keep hitting him?"

"_Man_, you don't have any idea what you just did, do you?" said a voice from the crowd. I looked down from the platform and spotted Ari, still smirking.

Burly jumped back up. As I watched him, I realized one thing—he was slow. "Why shouldn't I have kept hitting him, little one?" he asked, cracking his neck. My eyes narrowed. What a jerk!

"Because he was screaming! And already down! Plus, he's tiny in comparison. Pick on someone your own size!" I hissed.

"Problem is, there _isn't_ anyone my size. But you've got a pretty big self-image; maybe you want to try and fight me?" Burly cracked up at that idea. So did almost everyone else in the room. And at the laughter, I decided.

Ari jumped up next to me, grabbing my arm. "No," he whispered. "You can't win."

"What, Ari? You've given up on her already? Or is she only good for…other things?" He winked.

Ari sneered. "She's good for anything and everything…" he trailed, sliding an arm down my hipbone. _Don't hit._ _Damnit._ "However, she's just come down from severe hypothermia and I've worn her out pretty well the past few nights. Don't think she's physically capable of this kind of 'training' right now."

"By the expression on her dainty little face, I'd say she is." I looked to my left—a different man had spoken up.

"Yeah, Ari. Let her learn." Another man.

Damn Ari for caving in to peer pressure. "Fine. If she thinks she can go a round or two, she can give it a shot." Then he looked at me. "Don't come crying to me when you look like him," Ari finished, jerking a thumb at the unconscious man on the ground. Then he leaned in very close to me, and whispered in my ear, "If it gets too rough, I'll step in. Sorry, Sweetheart, but they'll only respect you if you can prove you're more than a toy." He winked at me, and then jumped off of the platform.

My mouth was open in a little "O" of surprise. They were actually going to make me fight this scag. And based on his size and generally obvious ability to fight, I knew I was going to loose.

"God damnit…" I murmured. _Make the first move._ Trusting my instincts, I leapt forward, faking with my right arm extended. Burly threw his arms up to block his face, and therefore didn't realize it was a fake. My right leg snapped out as well; a perfect sidekick landed firmly against his rib cage. He stepped back, surprised, but it was obvious—that was going to be the last time I tricked him. I took a deep breath, took a step back, and put up my fists. He mirrored me, and then ran straight at me, throwing a punch. I managed to duck and dodge the first punch, but the second hit me right in the neck. I flopped backwards, landing on the ground, gagging and gasping.

"This is too easy," he said, walking up to me. Before he could get close enough, I whipped myself back, and then slingshot myself forward, executing a nice kip that allowed me to kick him in the face before landing on my feet.

"Don't give up on me yet!" I shouted mockingly over the yelling of all of the men in the room. Jumping to the side to avoid a kick, I remembered—Burly was slow. I was fast. My arm shot out and I grabbed his ankle, then I turned 90 degrees so his leg was parallel to my body, and I swung my arm around in a circle, slamming my bent elbow into his tibia. Basically, I shattered his "shin bone" where it connected to his foot. He howled, and lashed out, grabbing the collar of my low cut tank top. Unhesitating, I re-grabbed his hand, and then spun quickly to my right, so that I rolled against the natural bend of his elbow. When in doubt, push things the way they aren't supposed to go. It always causes a chain reaction.

His hand unclenched from my shirt, but as I spun, so did he—in the opposite direction. Resembling a whirling dervish as he twirled on his uninjured ankle, he swung his arm heavily into my gut. I stumbled backwards, and was unable to dodge his next desperate attack. His open hand, curved like a claw, scraped across my bare shoulder, and blood started to ooze slowly. I threw myself to the side, rolled across the floor behind him, and then jumped to my feet. As I turned to face him again, I slipped. My feet flew out from under me, and I landed heavily on my wings. Tears filled my eyes instantly and my head spun. Then I realized why I had slipped—I had stepped in a pool of the currently unconscious young man's blood.

For some reason, my body locked up. Before I had realized that I could move, Burly was kneeling above me, one knee on either side of my hips.

"Put up a pretty good fight," he said. "Too bad Ari insists on keeping you to himself." My head rolled to the side as I started to cry.

_I might as well give up. _

Then I realized something. I had already noticed that all of the men were cheering… But I had failed to pick up on one thing. They were cheering for me!

Usually when I fight, it's because I've been told to. Or paid to. Or I'm fighting to make a point. This was one of those very rare occasions where I was fighting for me, myself, and I. And all of a sudden, I was _really _damn angry.

Screaming, I popped my hips up with no warning. Burly fell forward, but he fell slowly enough that I managed to get my leg bent between the two of us, planting my foot firmly against his sternum. Using his momentum, I straightened my leg and shot him straight over me. He apparently didn't know how to land from a classic "tome nage throw," so he pretty much landed on his head and then collapsed on his back. I jumped to my feet and dashed over to him.

"How about _that_ for 'big self-image'?" I shouted. "How do _you _like it?" I reached down, grabbed his arm, and pulled it up so it created a right angle with his body. Then I took my right foot, placed it on his shoulder, and pushed down. Quickly, I yanked hard on his arm and heard a satisfying "pop" as his shoulder dislocated. He yelped, and I dropped his arm. It flopped uselessly on the ground, and he rolled onto his side to cover his injuries.

Suddenly, I realized that the training room had gone silent. I straightened up and looked around. They were all staring at me; eyes wide, mouths open in shock.

Silent as a wraith, I slipped down off of the platform and found my way to Ari. And then someone clapped. Out of the blue, destroying the quiet, they all started clapping. My eyes widened.

"Yo, Ari! I like this one!" someone crowed. "What's her name?"

Ari grinned, and suddenly I felt like arm candy. Only, arm candy in a bloodstained green tank top and yoga pants. "Ivy." Then he slid his hand down my arm and grabbed my wrist. "On with the tour?" he whispered. I nodded, feeling suddenly claustrophobic and thankful of his weird ability to seemingly read my mind.

He pulled me through the crowd, and I could feel a weird pressure coming off of them. What was that? The back of my neck prickled.

"Hey, Ivy!" someone shouted. I looked over my shoulder, just in time to see Burly swing a medicine ball into my face.

And then—just my luck—I blacked out yet again.


	6. I Woke Up in a Strange Place

I Woke Up in a Strange Place

December 12

When I finally came to, sprawled right back on Ari's bed, I was livid. This whole ending-every-day-with-a-blackout stuff was really beginning to get on my nerves. Not to mention the frequent waking-up-later-with-a-headache-the-size-of-King-Kong thing. That really put a damper on my day. And of course, the "waking up" part, which kept happening wrong. You'd think that by now I wouldn't _always_ wake up in a compromising position in _someone else's_ bed.

Sitting up too quickly, my already achy head spun. I clapped my palms to my forehead, cussing like a sailor. Eventually, my profanities faded into moans. Sitting still, legs splayed awkwardly, I massaged my head. Steadily the pain ebbed away a bit. I forced my eyes open to the dim light of Ari's gargantuan bedroom. It was empty but a few of the softer lights were on and I could hear the shower running down the hall, as well as something playing on the MP3 system. Maybe… Metallica? I frowned and pulled myself off the bed. As my feet sank softly into Ari's carpet, I noticed something else—my clothes had changed. The bloodstained green tank top was gone, along with the yoga pants, and had been replaced with a red satin nightgown that only came to the middle of my thighs. Luckily for me, it had a relatively modest top; a v-neck that only showed a _little _cleavage.

Suddenly it hit me—who put this on me?

"Damnit." I rolled my eyes. Apart from the annoying situations I seemed to always awake to, the fact that _someone_ (and we all know who that someone is) was undressing me while I was unconscious only added to my misery.

After mulling it over a minute, I came to the resolution that I was going to clock Ari as soon as I saw him. Then I remembered how quickly he had bounced back the last few times I'd hit him, and decided to search for a weapon. With this in mind, I looked around the room quickly. At first, I had the strangest feeling that I would have to break apart a chair to find something heavy enough, but then my eyes caught something—a book. I dashed to it—it was laying flat on a table by the door—and picked it up, reading the title. The large, original copy of "Gray's Anatomy of the Human Body," felt like the most perfect vehicle of destruction to me. Plotting my attack, I suddenly spotted a little corner of a paper sticking out of the pages of the book. Pulling it out, I discovered it to be a note to my captor.

_Ari,_

_ Figured I'd drop this off as a bit of reading for you to do. I overheard your discussion with one of the myologists, and know that you are dealing with some pain and potential issues with the muscles surrounding your right knee. I've marked the page, here, that might concern your injury. Hope to be helpful, despite your personal determination to avoid me as well as keep me out of contact with your new bedmate. _

_ — With sincere regrets regarding your behavior, and concern for your weal,_

_ Jeb_

Frowning, I reread the blurb. It took a minute for it to sink it, but it slowly dawned on me that this nifty little note had given me an advantage. At last, I knew that Ari had a weakness. And now, all I had to do was exploit that little knee injury.

I flipped open the book to the marked page and found that someone had circled a muscle in one of the diagrams, labeled 'Vastus medialus.' It looked to me that it was the muscle just above the knee and toward the inside of the leg.

_A target. _

I took my position of attack—a standing position on a table beside the door to the bathroom hallway. Heavy book in hand, I pressed myself against the wall and waited.

Minutes later, the water in the bathroom shut off, and Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" silenced. I waited, my knees quaking with anticipation. An ambush! What a fabulous way to start the day! Finally, I could hear bare feet hitting the marble floor of the hallway. As soon as Ari entered the room—staring at the empty bed and wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist—I swung "Gray's Anatomy" down, hard, into the back of his head. A tiny gasp escaped him and he pitched forward, performing a lovely face-plant into the carpet.

Just as I jumped down from the table, Ari rolled over onto his back, a hand on his head.

"God freaking _damnit,_" he growled. He started to sit up, but stopped when he noticed me still lugging the book. "And I was going to come in and try to be amiable and _everything_. Bitch." Ari stretched himself out on the floor, propped himself up on his elbows, and glared at me. "So what is this? Y'know, I've heard words are better absorbed when read and not _hit with_. You trying to get me to learn or is this a holdup?"

I tilted my head and walked over to him, holding the book by my side. Instantaneous decision—I was going to mess with him a little. Call it revenge. Positioning myself between his legs provocatively, I said, "A holdup."

I noticed him gulp a little and tilt his head, curious. "And what is it that you could possibly want from _me_?" All of a sudden, I noticed him flexing. I realized that it was a compulsive thing, not intended to be bragging material. Nevertheless, his bare chest and stomach revealed a hardened six-pack and extensive shoulder and arm muscles. Shaking my head a little, to clear it, I considered the question.

"From you? A few things… I would just _love_ a key to all the doors. And maybe a voluntary escort… out. As well as a lifetime guarantee that you'll never try to touch me again." I smiled a little at him as a smirk crept across his face.

"And why, Babe, do you expect me to say yes? Books and punches may break my bones, but you will _never_ be able to stop me. But I'm easily swayed with the right bribes. How will you persuade me?" He sneered at me.

Weird feelings shot through me. For instance, the desires to vomit, punch, kick, and strangely… dive forward and kiss Ari. I blinked and took a deep breath. _Clear out those thoughts, Ivy. None of that crap. _

I smiled at him slowly, and got down on one knee between his legs, leaning in. "Like this…" He took a deep breath as I got closer, and he looked confused as well as slightly excited. But suddenly, I jerked my other leg forward (the one I was not kneeling on), and pressed my foot against the inside of his thigh, near his knee. Then I stood up swiftly, putting all of my weight on his right vastus medialus.

The sound that came out of him was not one that I had expected. It was one of pure pain, and I had only been going for "severe ache." As Ari screamed, his whole body convulsed; his torso collapsed, his uninjured leg bent quickly, his arms shot towards my foot, but he had no strength to stop me. Surprised, I yanked my foot away, and watched him curl into a ball on his side. His breathing was erratic, and he was shaking.

Yet again, strange desires. Should I be proud? Or regretful? Should I comfort him? Or take this opportunity and force him to get me out of here?

Now, let me tell you, I'm hardcore. I've put people in comas, beaten people up so much that _I _felt obligated to call them an ambulance, even shot someone in the leg once to keep them from robbing me (of something _I _just stole). Nevertheless, I can feel compassion and remorse. Hardcore, yes. A total wimp for hot guys in pain, also yes.

"A—Ari?" I murmured, stepping a little closer to him. "Are you—okay? I didn't mean to… I just thought it would… Um." He stopped moving and just lay there, as still and as quiet as a rock. Talk about awkward silence. I crouched down next to him.

_Hit him. Hit him! You're so close! All you need to do is get him to give you the key! _

I gulped and ever so gently reached out and touched his bare shoulder. "Ari?" His skin was cool and moist, but rough. From his curled up position, I could see the parts of his back where his wings were connected. Frowning, I realized something. They didn't look… like he had grown them. I had always had mine, as long ago as I can remember, but his looked like they had come as… an accessory. "You're wings are…?" I murmured.

Another flash of desire overcame me but this time I gave in. My fingers skimmed across Ari's shoulder blade and then down to where his wings connected—I gently brushed the feathers. And then with no warning whatsoever, Ari's arm flew up and he snatched the front of my nightgown. I gasped, but there was nothing I could do—I was caught completely off guard. Rolling to the side, and onto his back—which had to hurt his wings—Ari pulled me on top of him, holding only the front of my gown. When we stopped moving, my face was centimeters from his, staring into his eyes, and he was choking me with my own clothes.

He groaned a little, but then his free arm found its way to the small of my back, holding me in place. "That was a _very_ bad idea, Love," he growled into my face. I gasped, suddenly fearing him for the first time. There was something different in his eyes… "And I think it's about time I teach you a lesson." Again, with hardly any warning, he flipped to the side, throwing me heavily onto my back. I winced as my wings were forced to collapse fully, but didn't think much about it. Ari was splayed across me, but had managed to spread his legs around mine, locking me in place (despite the awkward restrictions of his bath towel). He had caught both of my wrists in his large palms, and his full body weight was on my chest. I couldn't breathe, and everything hurt.

"A—Ari, I didn't mean to—to…" I rasped, wriggling from side to side beneath him.

"Didn't mean to—to—to…what? Hurt me? Then why the _hell_ did you hit me with a book? Why the hell did you try to take my leg off? It's about time you got a taste of your own medicine, Freak."

Gasping, I watched Ari roll his shoulders, and then gaped breathlessly as his face elongated into a snout, his whole body became coated with fur, ears grew, and he gained about 60 pounds. Within seconds, a wolf wearing a towel was laying on top of me.

"Wh—what…" I couldn't even bring myself to ask a question, let alone get enough air to speak it. I felt something liquid trickle down my wrists, and realized it was my own blood. He had grown claws. Screaming, I squirmed beneath his weight.

"I like the way you move…" breathed Ari, the wolf, his razor sharp teeth an inch from my neck, "underneath me. Keep it up." I screamed even louder. "Oh, but _that_ we can't have." Rolling off of me but still maintaining a grasp on my wrists, Ari jumped to his feet. I started kicking and screaming, but couldn't do much. Ari dragged me across the room by my arms, and then scooped me up like a rag doll. Throwing me backwards against the edge of the bed, he looked at a nearby table and reached for a sturdy looking leather belt. I jumped to my feet and made a dash for the door, but before I reached the foot of the California King, Ari had thrown an arm around my hips and jerked me back. Pushing me against the bed again, he placed a leg on either side of mine—jamming his hips against mine to keep me from kneeing him effectively—and wrapped my wrists tightly with the belt, buckling it securely.

I was still screaming like a maniac. Maybe I'm the only one, but I'd never really seen a man turn into a wolf before. I think I had probably already managed to repress the first time I _thought_ I saw it. It was the stuff of fairytales, in my mind. Funny to hear from a girl with wings, eh? But truly, my mind was lapsing just from confusion.

The back of Ari's claw silenced the wild banshee sounds that escaped me. My screaming was replaced by a complete paralysis.

"Now _that_… that's perfect," Ari murmured. Breathing deeply, his furry wolf visage was replaced by the half nude, ridiculously muscular man. He slid his hands all the way down from my shoulders to my calves, then back up to the rear of my knees. He pulled my limp legs up around his waist, and leaned over me. Subsequently he reached down and put his hands on my stomach, then skimmed them down and under my wings, pulling me up to his torso. Numbly, my tied arms flopped over his shoulders and he ducked, allowing them around his neck. My head rolled across his chest. "Where shall I put you…?" he murmured to me, stroking my back and keeping me up with a hand on my butt. "We have some big plans today, Kiddo. Luckily, the more beat up you look, the better you'll play your part!" He chuckled.

My brain was slowly catching up to my situation. I felt very weak; the last blow to my face had been my breaking point. Judging by my difficulty breathing, I estimated that a few of my ribs were cracked from Ari's weight. Of course, I was completely violated mentally. Just the way he was touching me now was making me shiver and plot his gory death. My head skimmed under his chin—Ari tilted his head down and nibbled the top of my ear, letting out a very tiny groan that ignited a flame in my chest. To think, minutes ago I wanted to kiss him! "Hmm…" he whispered in my ear. "Wonder what other parts of you taste this good… But I suppose that's a topic for later. Ah, I guess this is an acceptable spot." My spine tingled in fear, and then I realized I had been lowered into an oversized leather chair. Ari delicately—in obvious contrast to his attitude moments ago—removed my bound arms from his neck. Then he stepped back and looked at me, as if I was a sculpture that he was in the process of fine-tuning.

_What the hell…is up with his mood swings? He must be bi-polar or flat out insane. Or both…_

The leather chair was huge. I felt like the pillow to my left was about the size of my full body, if that gives you an idea on proportions. Weird thing was, I didn't think it was intended to be a loveseat.

"So, Freckles, do you want to hear the schedule for today?" Ari asked me. He looked like I hadn't hit him. Hadn't stomped on his injury. Hadn't royally pissed him off. Was that all a fake, or was this perky sarcasm his true mask?

I cleared my throat. "No, not particularly." My wrists were still bleeding—I took care to bleed out on Ari's quality, leather chair…even attempted to wipe my wrists across the armrest. He smirked at me, tilting his head like a curious dog.

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. The plans today have a great effect on your life, you see. The 'higher-ups' have decided that you ought to go on a little recon mission with me. If you succeed, they'll let you stay here, with me…indefinitely. If you blow it, they'll let you go."

I frowned, considering this. Let me go? "If I 'blow it,' they'll let me go? What makes you think I'd actually _try,_ if I knew they'd set me free for failing?"

Ari laughed loudly. "Oh, when I said 'let you go,' I didn't mean 'set you free.' In this sense, letting you go means killing you, Babe. You'll be pushing daisies in the courtyard… or sleeping with the fish in Lake Michigan…if you screw it up…" And with that, he turned away from me and walked back towards a closet—I detected a small limp. "Chew on _that_ one, Cutie," he chuckled, dropping his towel on the floor.

I closed my eyes quickly, before I could see anything.

Pushing daisies if I screwed up? All of a sudden, living here didn't sound _quite_ so hideous, in contrast to an early grave. Also, I considered the option of trying to escape during or after the 'mission.' That seemed feasible, especially if the mission involved leaving this building. Would it really be hard to slip away into a crowd…?

Eyes still shut tight, I called out, "Wh—what does this mission…entail?"

Ari's voice reappeared much closer than I had expected. He chuckled, a foot or so to my right. "Just a little retrieving. The big-wigs figured they'd go easy on you and give you something that… resembled your general specialties." He stroked my leg—I flinched. "You can open your eyes, Babe. Seriously. Look, I swear I put on pants."

Opening my eyes slowly, I spied him—luckily, he had pulled on a pair of gray slacks, and was in the process of putting on a white v-neck t-shirt.

I gulped. "My…specialties?"

"Well… We figured we could use your 'five-finger discount' down at the hospital. It appears that the 'big cheese' needs some records."

"Whose records?" I prodded—not that it made much difference. I'd dealt with everyone from criminals to social elites. Didn't really alter the situation.

Ari smirked. He had finished putting on his pure white v-neck, and was now working on lacing up a pair of tan construction boots. "You know our mayor? Well it appears that he really _is _as shifty and corrupt as his badly gelled hair and his 70s ties make him look. Pretty recently he was accused of doing a wide variety of drugs. However, basically, he found a way to pin the whole fiasco on a company that this…institution that we're in right now happens to support. We even have some proof that the mayor paid off the hospital to report that he was clean, despite the fact that his whole system is more full of drugs than natural materials. But, his records may prove differently, and if they happened to make their way into the hands of the paparazzi… See?"

I frowned. I did know that mayor. And although I didn't see the relevance, I did hate his ties. "So you want me to steal his records in order to prove him guilty and clear the name of this other company?"

"On a minor level, yes. The boss said that by debunking the mayor, whoever comes into political power next would be on our side, which means lots and lots of changes for the underlying political parts of Chicago. Get that too?"

"…Yes."

"Awesome. Doesn't sound _too_ hard, does it?" Ari asked me. I frowned. He hadn't told me which hospital it was, he hadn't told me _how_ they wanted me to steal the records, and he hadn't given me a legitimate explanation for why they really wanted this mission to be mine. Overall, there were a few bits of this "plan" that were lacking… But the way Ari had begun to stare at me and the fact that he was in the process of feeding a brutally sharp looking combat knife into the top of his boot set me on edge.

"Yeah… piece of cake…" I murmured. He grinned at me.

"Perfect. So, are you ready to go? It's time for your first briefing."

Ari just couldn't take his eyes off of her. Aside from his obviously ubiquitous greed and desire for her, there was just something about how she moved and the faces she made that had him mesmerized.

He had led her out of his room, her wrists still bleeding a little and her red nightgown slightly stained and rumpled. She had walked with him with obvious reluctance, but the way she seemed to be slouching and her lack of snarls showed him a slightly defeated spirit.

Although "breaking her" was an important part of forcing her to give in to his—and the school's—whims, he was starting to regret it. Just a little.

Currently, he was sitting at a large, dark wood conference table with four other Erasers and two "doctors." Ivy was in a little closet that was situated at the end of the room, and was changing into her disguise. Even though she was on the other side of a big, dark door, Ari never took his eyes off of the closet.

"Did you hear that, Batchelder?" murmured one of the doctors. His voice reminded Ari of a weasel. Too high-pitched, too needy.

"Nope," Ari replied calmly.

The doctor rolled his eyes and repeated, "We have programmed your instructions into your smart-phones. The girl will, of course, be wearing a wire and an earpiece, and needs to follow her own instructions to a tee. As I'm sure you all realize, it is your job to ensure the sanctity of the plan. The instructions will play out perfectly if followed, and altering them will mean the end of your job, and quite likely, your life. Understood?"

Ari nodded, having only vaguely listened. At the "your life" part, Ivy had opened the closet door and slipped out. The nightgown was in her arms, and had been replaced by her undercover outfit—an over-sized Chicago Bears hoodie, a pair of black leggings with a rip in one knee, and a pair of tan, knock-off, ankle high UGGS. He knew that underneath the hoodie she had on a t-shirt that only came to her belly button. He had snatched it out of the laundry in the female Erasers' locker room that morning.

"What did I miss?" she asked softly, her voice dry, tossing the nightgown into the trash discreetly. The doctor repeated everything he had just said, and then added a few instructions.

"… And as far as your character goes, you are basically pretending to be in an abusive relationship and have run away from your boyfriend and apartment. To enhance the situation, you're also going to pretend that you have the flu. Understood?" Ari smirked a little bit, tearing his eyes away from her momentarily in order to pick up his coffee.

"One question," Ivy replied. "Am I the abuser or the victim?" Ari snorted, almost choking on his steaming Chicory coffee. He could hear the snide but slightly hopeful tones in her voice. Apparently the doctor could too, because he chose not to answer. Ivy rolled her eyes and took a seat in the chair next to Ari, which gave her a sufficient amount of distance from the doctors and the other Erasers.

"I'd let you abuse me…" muttered one of the Erasers. Ari looked up at the same time as Ivy, and turned his gaze on Dax.

_Why does this guy keep showing up?_

Ivy made a discouraging sound and tossed her head, her luscious blond hair flopping back towards her hood. "In your dreams," she whispered, looking down. Then her arm shot out and before Ari realized what was going on, she had picked up his coffee cup and taken a swig.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to offer. Ivy, would you like some coffee?" Ari said, smiling mildly. She stuck out her tongue as the strong, bitter grog reached all of her taste buds. "Sorry. Mine doesn't have any sugar in it."

"I noticed," she said, coughing slightly. "But no, thank you. I'm fine." Ari nodded, staring at her emerald eyes.

_You realize why she drank yours, don't you? _asked the Voice. Frowning, Ari listened in. _It's because she's afraid you'll drug anything you give her. Maybe you ought to lay off the Rohypnol for a little while. If you really want to gain her trust, that is…_

_Look, she's going to have to trust me no matter what. Is it really such a big deal if I guarantee her a good night's sleep with a little bit of medication?_ Ari thought back. He could hear the voice laughing in his head. _Just think of it as "insomnia prevention."_

_Insomnia prevention? Here I was thinking you couldn't possibly justify something so immoral. _

Ari rolled his eyes and tuned back in to the conversation.

"So you all heard that, correct?" asked the weasel man. He looked pointedly at Ari and Ivy. Ari blinked, tilted his head.

"Uh, nope. Wanna share again?" he said, trying to hide a smirk.

The weasel doctor scowled, his suspicions confirmed. Apparently too frazzled to repeat himself again, he waved his hand at the other doctor who instantly relayed the information. "Once you have obtained the files—by following the orders that will be presented to you in due course and while you are in action—you are to bring them back here and turn them in to us. We will then make multiple copies, print a few letters of explanation, combine the paperwork into separate envelopes, and address them. Then they will be returned to you and you and the team will deliver them to each address—different media headquarters. Understood?"

Ari nodded, looking sideways at Ivy. She was staring blankly at the table. The scratches on her cheek had healed for the most part and now only appeared as faint pink lines of fresh skin. As he watched her, she gently licked her lips and cleared her throat, as if to speak. Nothing came out.

"Alright, then in that case, you should depart on your mission immediately. Go, don't fail."

All of the Erasers stood, and Ari tried his best to gently take Ivy's arm and help her to her feet. She didn't fight back, but once she was standing she shot his a venomous look and jerked her arm away. He stared at her until she turned around and marched to the door, following the crowd.

_Go, don't fail._

The van that we all loaded into was the kind of van that mommies tell their kids to avoid. It was painted a shiny black, and only had windows by the first two seats and in the front. The few windows were dark tinted, so much that no one could see in. The only doors, besides the driver's and passenger's, were located in the very back, and opened into something like a tiny FBI headquarters. There were swivel chairs bolted in place in various spots around a desk that was attached to the walls. Crammed onto this circling desk were multiple laptops, earpieces, infrared items, binoculars, a small satellite, enough electrical wires to wrap around a killer whale, four or five different cell phones, a flat screen TV, an iPad or two, and a small icebox. Beneath the desk were lots of small drawers, which Ari had told me contained weapons of all sorts, and methods of containment. One drawer held only cameras, another only phone bugs and other monitoring systems.

We were riding around in the ultimate stalker mobile.

One of the team members was driving, another in the passenger seat. The rest of us—three more scary men in business suits, Ari, and me—were seated in the desk area. The men were all bustling around, removing items from various drawers, opening certain applications on laptops, cracking jokes, and eating subs from the little icebox. I just sat there, twitching. I hated small spaces—like stalker vans, which I _had_ dealt with before—and I always had. Not to mention, I was nervous as sin, and had started fiddling with the rip in the hole of my leggings, fraying it even more. Staring at a laptop blankly, I didn't notice Ari and one of the men talking about me for a minute.

"Yes, an earpiece and a wire. That's all."

"No night vision goggles?"

Ari scoffed, finally turning around to face the other man. "It's nine o'clock in the morning, dipstick, and she's going into a brightly lit hospital. Why the _hell_ would she need _night vision goggles_?"

As I turned to look, the other man laughed in Ari's face. "You never know when you're going to go into a dark closet with someone and want to see _something_…" My stomach churned. What was it with all the testosterone between these guys? Why were they so horny?

Ari snarled and narrowed his eyes at the other guy, who smiled, walked over to a drawer, and pulled out two little devices. Then he walked to me—hunched over so as not to hit his head on the ceiling—and knelt down.

"Here ya go, Tasty. Put this in." He handed me a little bud that was my exact skin tone and resembled a hearing aid. I frowned and put it in my ear, wincing a little as it made a metallic _zing_. "Oh, and there's this—let me help you." The man leaned forward a little more, and I stared at his face as he reached out with a little black box and a wire. He looked familiar.

"Wait—you're the other guy who chased me at Navy Pier!" I exclaimed, scowling.

The guy smirked, gently lifting up my hoodie and clipping the black box to the top of my waistband. "Yep. I don't think we've been properly introduced," he started. Then he slipped his hand up under my hoodie, under my shirt, and slid it across my skin up to my collarbone, clipping something else to my shirt collar. But then he left his hand under my shirt. "I'm Dax," he said, giving me an evil grin and a wink.

It took me _way_ too long to realize what he was trying to do. When I finally did, my hand flew out and I cuffed him across the face, shouting, "Hey!" He pulled his hand out of my shirt, but didn't back away. "Creep!"

"Y'know, you're cute when you're—" he started.

Before he could finish, Ari had reached into a drawer, pulled a trigger on something, and scowled from his seat as Dax keeled to the side, jolting from the shock of Ari's taser gun. I sat there, gasping, and looked at Ari, who gave me a look of concern.

"You okay?" he asked. "You didn't get shocked too?" I shook my head, and then found myself scooting to a chair that was closer to Ari, keeping my eyes on the jerking man on the floor of the van. "Just relax, I'll keep him down." I looked back to see that Dax had stopped twitching and was getting to his feet—but he had the head of a wolf now.

"C'mon, Batchelder," he whined, licking his chops. "Share and share alike!" He took a step closer to me—I leaned back, terrified. Ari stood and blocked me from him, still holding the taser gun.

After cussing at him—which I shall not repeat—Ari whispered something to him. The wolf frowned, narrowing his eyes, and then burst out laughing. As he laughed, he transformed back to a man and sat back down. "Alright, B. Alright."

And that was that.

The hospital that they delivered me to was apparently one of the best hospitals in Chicago. It looked like the kind of place for rich families or important political figures—of course I had never been there. I was a scrawny street urchin, and always had been. The few times I had been to a hospital for my own personal health, I had taken myself to one of the cheap ones on the outskirts of town. And I always freaked out, remembered my wings, and never actually went it.

Anyway, this place looked more like a mall to me. So tall and welcoming—nothing like a hospital, in my mind. The van had dropped me at the main door, and Ari left me with a small message: "Lie, and don't forget how terribly abusive I am. I'll be in soon."

After that, I had made my way slowly—walking as though in pain—to the main desk, where I asked for a checkup. Just about to finish my request (which would have been denied, since I didn't schedule an appointment), I collapsed across the main desk, knocking over a little Christmas snow globe, smacking a phone off its receiver, and coming within an inch of punching a nurse in the face. Through partially closed eyes, I saw the receptionist look at my wrists, still wrapped in bloodstained gauze. She gasped, hit a button, and within thirty seconds, I was riding in a wheelchair through the automated, locked door.

Even the hallways reminded me of a mall. We passed a little café, a gift shop, and a lounge for the doctors, before my nurse took me to a small room, helped me to my feet, and walked me to a cot. As she laid me down, cooing something friendly, the paper on the padded bed crackled beneath me, making me wince. I hated that sound. And then she left, promising a doctor would return soon.

_"Ivy? Can you hear me? You're doing great so far. Keep it up,"_ Ari's voice rang in my ear, making me jump. I sat up, ignoring him, and dangled my legs over the side of the bed, picking at the tear in my leggings again. Within no time, a doctor came into the room, accompanied by the previous nurse. He smiled at me, and he looked like he could have walked right off the screen of "Grey's Anatomy." Gorgeous, intelligent, and caring.

Pulling the wool over this guy's eyes would be a piece of cake.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm James Collins, and I'll be taking care of you today. It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, I hear you took quite a spill before you could give anyone your name, is that right?" he said gently.

I smiled like an angel at him, and went into awkward mode. "Yes. I'm so sorry about that, I—I hope I didn't hurt anyone or—or anything. It's a pleasure to m—meet you Dr. Collins. I'm C—Carla Johnson." The nurse scribbled down my name, smiling.

Dr. Collins smiled at me and took a step closer. As he did so, I twitched violently and then closed my eyes, humming. "Are you alright, Ms. Johnson?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes," I murmured. "It's just… I can't be near men and not get twitchy. Ever since he… It's—It's not your fault. I'm sorry."

"Well I promise I won't hurt you, ma'am. I'd just like to ask a few questions before we do anything here. Do you think you can tell me why your wrists are bandaged?" the good doctor asked, stepping a tiny bit closer.

And with that, the show truly began. I sniffled, and then burst into full on tears. Fake crying was a skill I had acquired at one of my first homeless shelters. When in doubt/ in need of more food than the average man, cry desperately. "I… I can't tell you! If I tell, he'll—he'll… He'll kill me! But worse than that, he'll probably kill you! I can't! I can't!"

"Well," said Dr. Collins, handing me a tissue, and gently rubbing my shoulder. "What if we guessed? You can at least tell us if we're right. We can make everything better. Alright? Now, this he you're talking about—is he your father?" I shook my head rapidly. "Your boyfriend?"

I nodded, adding, "If a monster can be labeled such a thing as 'boyfriend.'"

"So you're boyfriend… he abuses you?" the doctor guessed. I looked up at him through teary eyes and nodded desperately.

This lie was going perfectly. I felt bad for taking advantage of such a genuine looking person, but at the same time, it felt good to talk about my issues, even though they weren't exactly true.

"He… he is a very rich man, and when I first met him… I loved him. But he got mean. Or maybe he always was mean, but finally he hit me one day. I tried to leave, that first day… but he has so much power! I couldn't run… I couldn't hide. Finally, I realized that the only way to escape was to die, so I… did something to make him really mad, so that he would cut me. By the time I realized there must be a better way, it was too late! Oh, God, I want to live!" I sobbed, grabbing the doctor in a huge hug. It was a bit extreme, but to me, the lie would have convinced a three-year-old, tops, if I didn't add some drama.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. We can help you. Look, the fabulous Ms. Halabi here, your nurse, is going to take you upstairs to take a few tests, and then we're going to give you a blood transfusion. After that, we'll talk about your situation with your boyfriend." He smiled at me again—such a kind face.

_"Perfect, Ivy. I'll be meeting you in a minute or two, on the fifth floor."_

Nurse Halabi took my arm and led me out into the hall and started to angle me towards an elevator. We rode up to the fifth floor and I listened to her talk about her own past boyfriend troubles. Her thick accent made the story more interesting, but I still didn't pay much attention. Once the doors opened, I spotted Ari farther down the hall, still looking powerful in an executive sort of fashion.

I took a deep breath—this was the final act of the show, and it needed to be perfect.

_"Remember, you are to use Ari as means to cause a distraction. From there, he will steal the files. The file room is just down the hall, to the left, and through two double doors at the end._" Someone had piped in to remind me of my responsibilities. Despite Ari's description, I was really the decoy, not the thief.

"Carla! Oh Lord, Babe, I thought you were hurt. Are you okay, Cupcake?" Ari shouted, sprinting up to me. Nurse Halabi frowned next to me, confused. "Come here, let me see you. Oh my God, what happened to your wrists?" Ari grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and pulled me to his chest quickly. Then he backed me up, looking at my eyes. I stared at the ground, tears running down my cheeks. "Carla? Who did this to you? I'll… I'll do something terrible to whoever hurt you this time. Look, Babe, I'm here for you. I came as soon as I—"

"Let go!" I screamed. Ari dropped his arms, standing up straight. "You freaking liar! YOU know who did this to me, you monster! Don't try to hide it! I'm sick of your lies and fake affection! Get away from me!" I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my wrist. I screamed.

"Now you listen to me, you little bitch. Fake affection? I'm the ONLY good thing in your life, you ungrateful urchin. If I hadn't pulled you out of that dumpster, you would still be working the same street every night with no food, no money, and no home. Fake affection? Is that what you call my adoration for you? Fake? Please. Have you lost your mind? Maybe I have hit your head a few too many times. Babe, without me you would be trashier than you are. I introduced you to society, and I give you love every day." Ari blasted all this, and it shocked me sincerely. Didn't know we were gonna get into it like this.

People had started to cluster around us. Nurses, doctors, and patients—everyone came to hear the fight. It was perfect.

"You call this love?" I screamed, holding up my wrists. "This is how you show love? You are a MONSTER. I hate you so much… I wish you would just die!" I sobbed like a maniac, and Ari made a surprised face, taking a step back. "You have no idea how much you've hurt me. Even working the streets was better than this!" With that I grabbed a fire extinguisher off of the wall, and turned it on Ari, pulling out the pin. The pressure was fairly strong, so I didn't have to fake losing control of the extinguisher as I blasted half the people around me with it, creating mass confusion and a weird fog.

Alarms started blaring, and I saw Ari take off towards the file room. I had done my job. Now I just had to wait for him to return and we would be done.

But then everything went wrong, just like it always does. A few of the men I had blasted were getting up—they had seen Ari make a break for it. One of them, whose hair was white and plastered to his head, shouted, "That jerk is getting away!" Within seconds, ten men had jumped to their feet and circled Ari before he could get anywhere. Then, the elevator crashed open and twenty policemen shot into the room, running towards Ari, who had, stupidly, pulled out a knife.

My split second decisions…are probably my worst. I dashed after the cops (who were converging on Ari), threw the empty extinguisher at them, which took out a few of them, and then shot past them, headed towards the file room.

A glance back revealed that Ari had started to fight the masses of men. Between a punch and a kick, he looked at me—his eyes were wide, and it looked like he mouthed, _What are you doing!_

I looked away from him, frowning. Wasn't it kind of obvious? I was doing his job, because I really, really, really didn't want to swim with the fish in Lake Michigan. When I looked back, five policemen were following me. When I looked forward, a metal door was falling from the ceiling, right in front of the double doors to the file room.

"No!" I shouted, as well as a few choice swear words.

"Ivy, no!" Ari screamed at me as two cops charged at him with nightsticks. "Don't!"

A certain disregard for what people tell me to do… has always been a natural tendency for me. I looked forward again, and threw myself at the ground, my arms out and my body curved in a Superman position that would have made Clark Kent jealous. The metal door was two feet from the ground when I slid across the marble floor under it, my hands smacking the double doors. Just as my toes cleared the double doors, the metal door crashed into place on the ground, closing out a large group of the fuzz.

_"Ivy. Report. Ivy. Report. What is your location? Our cameras cannot locate you. Why aren't you helping Ari?"_

"Oh, he'll be fine," I murmured. "But as I'm guessing you noticed, he's sort of unable to get to the files right now." Hurriedly, I turned to look at the filing room… as gasped. There were three floors full of cabinets in that one room, which was obviously not located on just the fifth floor, but the 6th and 7th as well. "…I need you to tell me what year that file is from," I said, hoping they were listening. A quick glance at a nearby cabinet revealed that I was right—organized by years. It also looked like only the past two years were on this floor. "Hello?"

_"The file is from 2007. The mayor's first year in term."_

"Thank you!" I said. Something smacked hard against the metal door outside. I needed to move fast. Files from 2007 would be on the second floor—now I just had to get up there. Cautiously, I removed my hoodie, tossed it on a cabinet. Then, I forced my battered, painful wings through my scrappy t-shirt. With three strides and a hop, I took to the air, and flew up about twenty feet to the next floor. I scrambled around, searching for the group of cabinets from 2007, and when I found one, I yanked it open. No files on our mayor. I tried another cabinet, nada. One more cabinet, zilch. There were about five more cabinets, but I could hear shouting outside the room. I winced, jerking another cabinet open. Then another, and another. Pulling the last cabinet open, I found the file and snatched it. Figures it would be in the last one I checked!

I leapt down to the first floor, using my wings to slow the fall. As the metal door began to rise, I tugged on my hoodie and stuffed the files under it, tucking them into my waistband.

_How do I get past the cops?_ I thought, frowning and ducking behind a cabinet. _I can't let them see my wings._

The metal door opened all the way, the double doors were shoved open, and seven cops burst in. For the first time in a while, I got lucky. They all rushed towards the back of the room, assuming I would hide far from the door. As soon as they turned their backs, I slunk past them like a wraith, and slipped into the hallway, turning on my heel and sprinting towards Ari, who was still in the middle of a fight. I charged through, smacked the guy Ari was battling, and shot down the hall towards the stairs. A glance over my shoulder proved that Ari was on my tail, shock on his face. We made our way to the staircase, and he shouted, "Up!" I sprinted up the stairs, up four flights of them. We crashed through the door to the roof, the group of cops puffing on the stairs three floors below us. I wasn't quite sure why Ari never stopped running, but then he just sprinted right off the roof, over all of downtown Chicago. I stopped and watched him fall—about thirty feet down, he yanked off his suit jacket and spread his huge, gorgeous wings. I gasped, and pulled off my hoodie, and then threw myself after him, my wings exploding painfully from my back.

I was so distracted by the hypnotic powers of Ari's baffling wings, the fact that I had gotten away with robbing a hospital, the pain in my wings, and the prospect of earning someone's pride for completing a mission that I forgot to try and escape.


End file.
